AN - Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I'm going to start trying to include more detail in this story. I feel like I haven't been putting as much in as I've liked so let this serve as a warning that chapters will start being a bit longer from this point on! I don't own Harry Potter or any associated properties! All characters and fictional events belong to J.K Rowling!
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Harry awoke from a slumber he didn't intend to fall into. He swept his gaze around his compartment as if he was trying to remember where he was. He squinted, glancing from the cushioned seats, down to the wooden floors, up to the luggage racks that hung above his head, and finally landing on the form that was curled up on the seat across from him. Her slow and methodical breaths indicated she was asleep. Her chestnut brown hair cascaded around her face and onto the seat she rested on. Harry couldn't help but note how peaceful she looked. For a split second longer, he couldn't recall why he was apparently on a train or why this young woman was asleep on the seat across from him. Then it all came rushing back to him. His struggles at King's Cross station, finally boarding the train to Hogwarts, and meeting one Hermione Granger. He smiled as recalled the events, waves of different emotions washing over him. He was amused at his more than reasonable panic that he wouldn't be able to find Platform 9 ¾ in time for the train's departure for Hogwarts. He recalled his initial reluctance to sit with anyone as he searched for a compartment and the regret he might have felt had he refused Hermione's request to share the one he found.
Harry glanced up and smiled at the thought of his new friend. He didn't think he could have started off any better in terms of meeting new people. Through his Dursley imposed distrust of new people, Harry worried that any encounter he had with a new person would end in one of two ways: in his humiliation or their complete distaste for him. Harry rarely met anyone that he didn't immediately expect to leave him more alone than when they came to him. Truthfully, he expected the same of Hermione at first, only that it would be amplified if she knew of his apparent fame just as everyone else in the wizarding world. When she discovered Harry's lack of knowledge about his own past, he noticed that she didn't seem repelled. She seemed to hold a distaste for something that wasn't him. What the object of her negative feelings was, Harry couldn't tell. It was rather curious to him: he had never met anyone that seemed to react negatively on his behalf, despite how little they knew him. When Hermione had offered to inform him of the truth surrounding his parents' fate, Harry couldn't help but begin to feel more secure with her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he could end up feeling safe in the presence of someone he barely knew. The feeling only increased tenfold when Hermione began to cry while recounting the tragedy of the Potters. Though he was determined to not allow himself to cry in front of Hermione, he was immensely relieved to see that she saw the same sadness and tragedy that he did in the events that sparked his fame.
Aside from the rather depressing first conversation between Harry and Hermione, their time together on the train was nothing but pleasant. They learned of each other's pasts -moreso Hermione's than the full extent of Harry's- and found they had a lot in common. They were both only children, they shared the same first two initials, their childhood homes were both within an hour's drive from London, and they both didn't have many friends growing up. That last part really bothered Harry. Hermione was an intelligent, kind, polite, and thoughtful young woman. How could anyone not want to be friends with her? He thought to himself as she had regaled him in stories of her time spent alone during her primary and secondary schooling years. It just didn't sit right with him how anyone could speak with her and decide that she wasn't worth their time. He absently-mindedly watched her sleep as he tried to make sense of why anyone would find her company unappealing. He thought for about an hour and couldn't come to any conclusion as to why someone would hold those sentiments. He sighed and shook his head at what he felt was other people's lack of good judgment before turning and looking out the window to watch the landscape pass by.
As Harry tried to gaze out the window, he was met with the encroaching darkness of nighttime. Harry furrowed his brow and glanced at his watch. I couldn't have been asleep for long. A couple hours at most. Harry was shocked to find that he had been asleep for nearly five told him that the journey to Hogwarts was supposed to take around 7 hours, and he knew that he and Hermione had chatted for a couple hours before they dozed off, meaning that they were rapidly approaching the train's final destination. Harry moved to wake Hermione, but some movement in the corner of his eye stopped him. It was just a fellow student that had been passing by the door, but Harry couldn't help but notice that she was dressed in her school robes. He looked down at his gray jacket, maroon t-shirt, and jeans. I don't suppose this would pass as an adequate uniform. Harry chuckled to himself and stepped away from Hermione, shutting the door to the compartment and drawing the blind to the window in the door. He took another glance at her to ensure that she was still asleep, and quickly used this time to change into his blank school uniform. He donned the white button down shirt, slate gray trousers and vest, black tie, and long black cloak. He fiddled with his tie for a moment, using the window as a mirror. He tied it a few times in an attempt to get the knot perfect, but he could only one that was about a size smaller than it should have been. With a sigh, the young man gave up trying to get the perfect knot, but kept a hand on the flat part of the black silk tie. Harry ran his thumb over the Hogwarts crest that was stitched onto the front of the tie, and pondered which house he would be sorted into.
From what Hermione had told him, each house had incredibly rich histories, becoming homes to some of the greatest witches and wizards to ever exist. Additionally, each house was a representation of the character of those that resided in it. Gryffindor: House of the Brave and Determined, Ravenclaw: House of the Wise and Insightful, Hufflepuff: House of the Loyal and Hardworking, and finally Slytherin: House of the Ambitious and Prideful. Harry was having a hard time envisioning which house he would end up belonging to. He and Hermione discussed it at length during their conversations, but he couldn't land on a particular house for himself. He thought Hermione would easily be sorted into Ravenclaw, due to her intellect, or Hufflepuff due to her compassionate nature. He also wouldn't be surprised if she ended up a Gryffindor. She did approach him to share a compartment when they were strangers to each other. To Harry, that read as brave. It could be incredibly daunting to approach a stranger to spend such a long period of time with them in an enclosed space. It was possible, Harry supposed, that she could end up a Slytherin. She seemed ambitious in her academic endeavors, but to him that didn't outweigh her other qualities. Harry once again glanced out the window and figured he'd better wake his slumbering friend.
He stepped back to his seat, reached above his head to place his clothes in his trunk, and turned around to face Hermione's sleeping form.
"Hermioooneee," he called softly. "You've got to wake up. We'll be at Hogwarts soon."
She didn't wake immediately, but she scrunched her nose up and rolled over so her back was facing Harry.
"Jus five more minutes…" she replied sleepily.
"Hermione, I don't think we have too much time before we're there." Harry smirked at her request, but didn't think she'd appreciate rushing to get change while everyone else was leaving the train. "You need to get changed into your robes as well."
With that, Hermione began to stir. She opened her eyes, rolled over to face the middle of the room once more, sat up, and rubbed her eye. Harry couldn't help but hold his smirk as he watched her groggily look around as he did a little while earlier. She looked up at him, gave a small smile and stood up.
"Thank you for waking me, Harry." Hermione said through a yawn. "Once you dozed off earlier, I started reading Hogwarts: A History again. I guess I didn't last too much longer."
"I guess not." Harry chuckled. "Sorry about that by the way. I didn't realize how tired I was."
"Oh don't worry about it, Harry." she waved her hand at him, signaling that he should dismiss his worries over such a thing. "After what we had talked about earlier, I'm not surprised we fell asleep. It was a bit emotionally draining."
Harry nodded in agreement at her insight. It would make sense that discovering the truth of your parents' murder would take a lot out of you. Harry excused himself from the compartment to allow her to change. Shutting the door behind him, Harry stood in the hall of the train. He looked to the right and to the left, noticing that he wasn't the only one giving his fellow passenger some privacy to change. He made eye contact with a young man with bright blonde hair. He was dressed in similar blank robes to Harry, which allowed the raven-haired wizard to assume that he was a fellow first year student. Even from down the hall, Harry could see his sharp gray eyes. Harry nodded in a silent greeting to be polite, but the other man just scowled and turned away. Harry gave a shrug and turned back to face in front of him. The compartment on the other side of the hall had its door shut and curtain drawn. He could faintly make out voices from the other side of the door, talking in quiet tones followed by loud and raucous laughter. Throughout his years at Privet Drive, Harry found it best not to eavesdrop. Unless he wished to have a severe punishment inflicted on him, of course. Knowing better than to invoke the wrath of some wizards or witches that may be more experienced in their schooling than him, Harry decided to fiddle with his tie some more. He pushed the knot from left to right and back to the center of his collar once more. He loosened it, tightened it, pulled it out of his vest, and tucked it back in. He was about to repeat the process before the door slid open from behind him. He turned to see Hermione dressed in the same outfit he was.
"I suppose they want all the first years to feel like they fit in somehow." Harry joked, referring to their matching attire.
"Yes, I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Hermione chuckled at his joke. "Though we do get a little more individuality once we're sorted."
"Why's that?" Harry cocked his head as he moved back into the compartment to sit down.
"Well, part of the magic of the sorting is our uniforms." Hermione's eyes lit up as she launched into her explanation. "Once we're placed in our houses, a spell emanates from the Sorting Hat that alters our clothing so we match with the rest of our housemates! I'm not entirely sure how it works, but it sounded like the Hat was bewitched to cast the spell once we're sorted."
"That's actually pretty interesting, Hermione," Harry nodded sincerely at her explanation. During their conversations earlier in the day, Harry had asked Hermione how she knew so much about Hogwarts before they had even been there. Her answer greatly impressed Harry: she had been reading the course books as soon as she bought them. She had ended up traveling to Diagon Alley a couple weeks before Harry had gone with Hagrid and used the time in between then and the departure of the Hogwarts Express to read as much as she could about Hogwarts and the history of all things magical. She had read through each of the course books, even though she won't be taking classes for all of them. While Hermione had become a valuable wealth of information on Hogwarts, magic, and the like, her knowledge wasn't the only thing that impressed Harry. She spent hours upon hours reading books about a world she hadn't known existed until about a month prior to her purchase of said books. She had thrown herself at her research of this new world because she didn't want to fall behind because she didn't come from a magical background. That's what impressed Harry the most. Hermione's absolute dedication and commitment to her goals. It seemed to Harry, if Hermione set her mind to something, she would work her absolute hardest to reach her goals.
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Harry and Hermione chatted idly as they waited to arrive at their destination. It wasn't long before they were interrupted by the disembodied voice of the conductor, speaking into every compartment as if talking over a PA system.
"Please leave your luggage and pets in your compartment. Your items will be delivered to your dormitories after the Sorting Feast." His gravelly voice rang out. Harry suddenly lurched forward as the train began to slow. He sat back in his seat and shared an excited glance with Hermione as they watched Hogwarts Station roll into view. The train came gently to a stop and Harry and Hermione shot up from their seats. They grinned at each other as they stepped into the hallway, joining the growing line of students who were trying to exit the train. It took several minutes, but Harry, with Hermione close behind him, made it off the train. Harry took a deep breath and took in their surroundings. Tall trees reached into the sky, swaying in the slight breeze. The rustling of their leaves was barely audible over the bustle of the platform that was swarming with students. The duo did their best to stay near each other as they made their way over to the area where the other first years were gathering. As they came up behind the group, Harry looked at Hermione and smiled. Hermione sent him a giddy smile back, obviously ecstatic that they were finally there.
"Alrigh' alrigh'! All firs' years group up!" A very familiar voice called out above the din. Hagrid towered over the throngs of students, waving his massive arms to attract any student clad in the blank robes. He called out to ask older students, apparently called "prefects," to assist him in his endeavors. They gathered around one thousand first year students and corralled them in a large clearing, a little ways away from the platform. Hagrid stayed with the students and sent the prefects to wait on the platform for any stragglers. After conducting one final sweep of the train and Hogwarts Station, Hagrid addressed the group assembled before him.
"Welcome teh Hogwarts!" His voice rang out, as if it were magically enhanced so the large body of students could be addressed accordingly. "I know you're all excited teh get teh school, but there are a few things teh go over! First, please stay with the group until you're sorted. We don' wan' any of yeh to get lost. Secon', don' be afraid teh ask questions! Teh prefects an' I are here teh guide ye teh Hogwarts this firs' time. If you're confused abou' where we're goin', jus' ask!. Lastly, don' use any magic until you're sorted! We also don' wan' anyone teh get hurt because someone doesn' know wha' they're doin'!" Hagrid scanned the crowd, satisfied that everyone had quieted down enough to listen to him. He nodded once to himself before beckoning the assembly to follow him. They began down a dirt path that was lit by cast iron lanterns hanging from large posts that lined the edges of the path, forming a thinner line as the group walked along. The trees grew denser as they progressed, casting shadows that increased the darkness that had surrounded them when night fell.. Harry and Hermione did their best to ensure that they didn't lose track of each other, for neither was too keen on losing their first friend in the crowd. They were separated for a brief moment as the flow of the crowd forced Harry to walk behind a trio of students that were animatedly discussing something called "quidditch."
"I'm telling you: Messier is taking home the MVP this year! He's been due for so long!" A dark haired, Irish student proclaimed.
"You're mental! Sturgeon has been the best seeker in the game for the past couple of years! It's only right that he takes it!" A tall, red-headed young man replied in earnest.
"I don't know if I'd go that far." A dark haired, round-faced wizard interrupted as they walked along. "After all, Birch hasn't allowed a legitimate shot past him in a while! If it weren't for him, the Arrows wouldn't stand a chance with their bum of a seeker!"
Harry was intrigued by their conversation. Are they talking about a sport? He wondered to himself. He supposed it would make sense that there would be different sports in the magical world given all the apparent possibilities that magic offered. He had no idea what this "quidditch" was, but maybe he could learn some more. He was about to question the trio about the topic when he felt someone come up beside him. Harry looked down to his left and saw that Hermione had been able to work her way back to him.
"There you are! I'm sorry I lost you!" She began with a sheepish smile. "The crowd just kind of bundled around each of us and I had a hard time seeing over everyone."
"No worries. I was looking for you too." Harry sent her a reassuring smile that he hoped quelled her perceived anxiety at their separation. "I didn't want to lose my first friend before we even made it to Hogwarts!"
His joke made her crack a grin and give a little chuckle. Thankfully, Harry thought. She feels the same…I hope. They continued down the path in silence, occasionally glancing at each other to make sure they hadn't been separated in the crowd again, smiling if they made eye contact with each other. Harry's opportunity to ask about quidditch had passed as the trio in front of them had changed their topic of conversation to some kind of food called "Treacle Tarts." It's alright. I bet it'll come up again. Harry didn't know how, but he felt that quidditch wouldn't be a one-off topic at Hogwarts. If these three could have such an animated discussion about it without drawing any unwanted attention to themselves, then perhaps it was a staple among the magical community. Maybe Hermione knows something about it. She's apparently read about every big function in the wizarding world…
Before Harry's question could leave his mouth, the group came to a halt. He nearly bumped into the red-headed man in front of him, but only stopped because Hermione had managed to grab the back of his robes and prevent him from doing so. He shot Hermione a grin of thanks and glanced around. The trees had given way to a massive lake. Due to the fog that rolled along the surface of the water, the students were unable to see completely across the span of the water. What they could see, however, were about one hundred small boats that were gathered off of a series of docks that extended from the edge of the beach on over the water. The boats had no method of steering, motor, or oars to use to traverse the lake. Harry glanced at Hermione, confused. Instead of making eye contact with his friend, he saw the back of her head. She had flagged down a nearby prefect and was watching her approach. The raven-haired prefect donned a set of robes that were accented by a deep shade of blue, which Harry was able to note indicated a member of the Ravenclaw house thanks to Hermione's explanation she had given him earlier on the train. She had a slim figure, was slightly taller than Hermione, and was only just about an inch shorter than Harry. She had quite a pretty face: small nose, silky hair, lush eyelashes, and full lips that were traced with a blue lipstick to match her robes. The young witch gave Hermione a smile as she finally reached her.
"Is everything alright?" She asked, a tiny bit of concern in her voice betraying her smile.
"Well, yes but I was just curious about a few things." Hermione responded. "I was hoping you may be able to help me."
"Ah of course!" The prefect brightened at Hermione's curiosity. "What would you like to know?"
"First, are the lanterns that line the trail powered by some sort of perpetual flame charm? And are the candles within preserved by some kind of similar charm that prevents wax from melting?" Hermione began.
"Why, yes they are! These lanterns are constantly lit, as long as someone is walking on the path that is. If not, they extinguish themselves so as to not disturb the natural state of the forest. That's a rather complicated charm that you'll most likely not learn until your third or fourth year if you end up taking C-347." She explained enthusiastically. "When they are lit, however, the candles may stay lit as long as needed. There are several spells that are used to prevent the melting of different substances which you'll most likely learn about this year if you take a magical practicality course."
"Oh that's quite interesting!" Hermione said with bright eyes at the prefect. "May I ask you about the scheduling? When are we going to be able to pick our classes and our degree paths? I'd like to get started on that as soon as possible."
"I'd love to help you out, but I think Hagrid wants us to start loading into the boats now." She chuckled and turned to walk away. "Why don't you come find me tomorrow after your orientation activities conclude? I'd love to discuss it all with you then!"
"Wait!" Hermione called out, causing the prefect to turn back. "What's your name? How can I find you if I don't know who you are."
"That's a good point," The prefect smiled. "My name is Layla. Layla Williams. And yours is?"
"Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you." The younger witch said, extending her hand. The pair shook hands and Layla departed for her post, ensuring that the first years managed to climb into their aquatic transports without any issue. "She was quite nice! I hope to see her again!" Hermione said as she turned back to Harry, who had been watching the exchange with rapt interest. Harry had to admit that Layla had been knowledgeable about magic and could see why she had been sorted into the House of Intelligence. Harry couldn't also help but note how pretty Layla was. The thought was fleeting, however. It wasn't the kind of "pretty" he had come to prefer in his life. He had always appreciated beauty that wasn't necessarily obvious: the kind that couldn't be classified with the likes of Claudia Schiffer or Tyra Banks. It was an odd thought for Harry to have, but in his experience the girls with the "prettier" faces had been the ones to be the most dismissive of Harry. They never paid him any mind, so he never paid them any mind. Additionally, he often found their company to be rather unstimulating. Most of the girls he ever talked to, if he talked to any at all, conversed about things Harry found no interest in. Drama, boys, and parties were the most common topics of conversation among the groups of girls Harry ended up trying to distance himself from. At that moment, Harry smiled at Hermione, grateful he had been able to find a friend that seemed to care about more than the trivial things that plagued his teenage years.
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It didn't take long for each of the boats to be filled with students. Each boat contained around 10 students, who clung to the edges of the boats as they magically began to traverse the lake. Some gripped the sides of the boat in fear, others in anxiety, but Harry and Hermione gripped their boat in excitement. They could not wait to finally set foot in Hogwarts and begin the magical education they wished to pursue. While they didn't necessarily know which degree they would pursue, their minds ran rampant with the possibilities of all the things they could learn in their field of choice. All of these thoughts were expelled from their heads, however, when Hogwarts finally came into view. The fleet of students glided seamlessly across the surface of the water. They had broken through the fog and came into view of a magnificent castle, perched on top of steep bluffs whose sides sloped down to the banks of the lake. The gray stone walls of the structure rose high into different spires with blue-gray shingling. Different towers and smaller, more squared structures held windows that had been lit to pierce the darkness that had fallen. All in all, it was the sheer size of the castle that awed Harry and Hermione. Towers that reached high into the air, more grounded buildings that looked like they could house hundreds if not thousands of students, and paths that could lead anywhere into the night.
"It's beautiful…" Hermione whispered, wide eyes reflecting the bright windows like stars in the night sky.
Harry hummed in agreement and turned to ask Hermione a question but someone behind them interrupted him.
"How long you reckon before you want to go home?" the voice questioned. Harry and Hermione turned their backs to Hogwarts to face the source of the voice. It belonged to the red headed, quidditch aficionado that Harry had been walking behind earlier. He wore a rather unimpressed look on his face, almost as if he wasn't excited to be coming to a magical university.
"Mate, I'm ready to go home now!" An Irish voice laughed. The red-head joined in, as well as another dark haired young man. It was then that Harry had realized that the trio he had been walking behind earlier on the journey had boarded the same boat that he and Hermione did. He looked between them incredulously. How could anyone already have a distaste of Hogwarts? He wondered. He looked at Hermione with a worried expression and caught one on her face as well. Hearing the other young students express their reluctance to attend Hogwarts worried both of them greatly. They began to fear that Hogwarts would become like any other school they had attended: they would have no friends, be targeted for shunning and bullying, and maybe even wish to be withdrawn from the school. They shared another glance with each other before Hermione spoke up.
"E-excuse me," she began a little timidly. "Might I ask why you're not excited to attend Hogwarts? I thought everybody would be excited to learn about magic…"
The redhead turned to her with a curious expression etched on his face. He observed her for a moment before it appeared that he came to a realization.
"Ah. You're one of those," he said in an understanding tone.
"One of what?" Hermione said indignantly.
"A muggle-born." the ginger replied matter of factly. "I had heard stories about you lot, but I never would have guessed that they would actually be true."
"What stories? What's so wrong with muggle-borns?" Harry spoke up for the first time.
"It's the fact that they're all a bunch of magical wannabes," the Irish wizard spoke up. "They find out about magic and get all excited. Quite strange, honestly. It's a mistake that they even have it, so why should they get excited by it?"
"Why is it such a mistake?" Hermione raised her voice, fuming more and more with each word that came out of the two wizards' mouths. "We were born with magic, just the same as you! How can something be a mistake if someone is born with it?!"
"Muggle-borns aren't nearly as capable witches and wizards as purebloods!" the red head began to yell. "There isn't one famous muggle-born wizard out there! And even if there was, they would be famous because they accidentally killed themself while trying to clean their dishes!"
The Irish wizard laughed uproariously at his friend's prejudiced comments. He doubled over and laughed until tears streamed down his bright red face. Soon the red headed bigot began to join in, leaning forwards towards the middle of the boat as he too fell victim to his own joke. Harry glanced around the boat and saw a couple other witches and wizards chuckling at the remarks. Some stayed silent and looked away uncomfortably, but another looked actively put off by the remarks that had been uttered. Harry recognized the dark haired, round faced man as the third member of the trio he had been walking behind before. He wore a grimace on his face now and looked away from his walking companions. At least everyone doesn't believe in that rubbish. Harry thought to himself. It became quite clear that there weren't going to be many people that Harry and Hermione could make friends with at Hogwarts. If the reaction of their fellow travelers were any indication, prejudice ran deep at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure how he would be viewed in any of this, given his status as a half-blood wizard -and as the legendary Harry Potter- but that didn't matter to him. He knew the view that the bigotry that other wizards held for muggle-borns was wrong and that he had to stick by Hermione's side through all of this. He knew what it was like to be discriminated against because he was different -the Dursleys made sure to make him feel unwelcome in every way because he was his mother's son. He knew that having someone in his corner would have been a massive boost to help him navigate his earlier years, so he became determined in that moment to be for Hermione what he so desperately needed: a true friend that would stick by her side through every challenge they faced together at Hogwarts. He would not let his friend stand alone in a new world that's plagued by prejudice against her and others like her.
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Soon the boats landed on the shores underneath the bluffs that Hogwarts rested on. Harry and Hermione quickly hopped out of their boats and moved to join the gatherings of students that had begun to assemble in front of the entrance to a large set of stairs that stretched all the way up the side of the cliff and into Hogwarts. They made sure to put enough distance between themselves and the group that had shared their boat with them. Harry glanced behind them and was satisfied that enough students had filled in the gap to make further contact with them unlikely for the rest of the night. Harry turned his attention back to the front of the large cluster of students but couldn't focus on what Hagrid was saying. He couldn't believe that such bigoted views could exist in the magical world! Though Harry had never met another muggle-born besides Hermione, he refused to believe that someone with muggle parents couldn't be as proficient in magic as someone who came from a magical family. It was asinine to believe that someone could be lesser in their abilities just because they came from a different lineage! Harry had then decided to make a silent promise to himself: his experience at Hogwarts would not be poisoned by those that viewed themselves as greater than others, and he'd be damned if he didn't stand with Hermione in her fight as a muggle-born. At the thought of the witch, he turned to look at her. They had begun to climb the stairs to Hogwarts and she held a solemn expression. He nudged her arm with his to get her attention.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, worry clouding his eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine." She replied. "I'm not going to let them get to me, Harry. Magic is still this wonderful thing in my life and I won't let it be tainted by a few hair-brained idiots."
"Oh, good!" Harry said, brightening knowing that his friend hadn't been affected. "I'm glad. But Hermione…"
"Yes, Harry?" She questioned as he trailed off. "Is something the matter?"
"Well…" Harry took a deep breath. Voicing his support had suddenly become much harder. He didn't want to overwhelm her with his support when they had only just met earlier that day and come off as easily attached. The fact of the matter was, Harry wasn't easily attached but he was scared at how quickly he felt comfortable with Hermione. If she had ever left him, it would be devastating for Harry and he didn't really know why. He just couldn't lose the first friend he'd ever had.
"Are you feeling alright? Should we seek out a school nurse or something?" Hermione asked, concern flooding her voice.
"No, I'm feeling fine." He replied. "It's just that I wanted to say that even though we've only met about 12 hours ago, I'm here for you. I know what it's like to be treated one way because you're different and I won't leave you to face it alone. I'm in your corner…"
At Harry's honest confession, Hermione paused. She observed his face, searching for any indication of a lie or a joke. She saw none, however. The young witch began to smile until her cheeks hurt, eyes becoming moistening as they filled briefly with tears before she blinked them away. No one had ever told her that they were in her corner. She knew her parents would be, had they known about what she had gone through while she was growing up, but she never told them. She was content to deal with her issues on her own and she got used to that. She fell into a habit of taking the hits as they came and either working to fix the problem, or retreat into her school work until it passed. It was a rather unbalanced cycle for Hermione, but it made her strong. She grew a thick skin and just allowed any torment at the hands of her classmates to roll off her back because she knew that she was the only one that could help herself. Hearing Harry confirm his loyalty to her, despite only having known each other for half a day, was heartwarming. She felt like she could trust him, and somehow knew that he would stand with her through whatever plight she may come across. She felt empowered by his support and knew that as long as she and Harry had each other, nothing could take them down.
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The thousand or so students that had ascended the path into Hogwarts castle, now stood in front of a set of massive wooden doors. Decorative carvings that had been etched into the door symbolized what the duo came to recognize as the four houses of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. The four house crests ran across the middle of the door with the Hogwarts crest resting above and below the empty space in between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw crests. The split of the double doors was visible in the crests and it was clear that the crests would split in half as the doors opened. Harry marveled at the design of the door while Hermione nodded in agreement, though he assumed magic made the creation of this door significantly easier, he knew making a design such as that was difficult, given his time working in the Horford Brothers' Hardware Store. The students around them also seemed to be glancing up and around at the architecture, marveling at the high, arching ceilings and expert masonry. This continued until an older woman with a large, green, pointed hat entered the hall. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line as she tersely moved across the space to stand before the group of students. She placed her wand to her throat, magnifying her voice, and began addressing the students.
"Welcome to Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," her voice rang out. "We are so glad that you decided to accept your invitations to study with us, and hope you find everything you need to become a well functioning member of the magical society. I am Professor McGonagall and I am deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Before we enter the Great Hall and begin the sorting, there are a few things you must know. First, interrupting the ceremony will result in punishment for not only you, but your future house. You are a representation of your house, and your actions will be judged on behalf of your house. Second, once you are sorted, you are encouraged to sit with your house. Your house will be like your family so it is best to get to know them and engage with as many of your housemates as possible. Finally, you are expected to be respectful whenever a speech is given. These statements do not only apply to the sorting, but to the rest of your time at Hogwarts as well. Respect is one of our top priorities at Hogwarts and you are expected to follow the same philosophy!"
Professor McGonagall surveyed the crowd before her and nodded, seemingly satisfied that her words were well accounted for. She turned on a heel and flicked her wand at the large door in front of them. The individual doors swung open and the deputy headmistress led the first year students into the Great Hall. When Harry and Hermione made their way through the doors, Harry sucked in a breath. The hall was filled with thousands of other students, each sitting and incredibly long, dark wooden tables. Four of these tables were arranged in the hall, adorning different colors for which house was seated there. Each student watched the first years stream into the Great Hall and make their way down the center aisle and behind McGonagall. She came to an abrupt halt before the steps of a sort of raised platform that held a long table where, Harry presumed, the staff sat. In front of the staff table, was a three legged, wooden stool. On top of that stool, sat a very old looking leather hat. To Harry, the wrinkles in the leather almost resembled a face. The students watched as McGonagall moved to stand beside the stool. She once again brought her wand to her throat and spoke.
"This is the Sorting Hat. When your name is called, you must come forward and sit on the stool, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will sort you in your house. Do not make an extra show of being called upon. There are close to one thousand of you being sorted and we cannot have this last all night." McGonagall briefly removed her wand from her neck and unfurled a long scroll she had been carrying within her robes. She cleared her throat, brought her wand back to her neck, and called out.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
A blonde haired young woman stepped forward. She nervously wrung her hands together as she stepped up to the stool. McGonagall gave her a brief, reassuring smile before lifting the Sorting Hat off the stool. Hannah sat down, faced the group of students before her, and looked up nervously as McGonagall lowered the Hat onto her head. Harry hadn't known what to expect from a magic hat that was apparently supposed to place you in your house, but he didn't expect it to come to life. Before his very eyes, the wrinkles on the Hat formed a mouth and began speaking. The brim of the Hat moved around animatedly, as if it were gesturing. Harry could not hear what it was saying, but held his breath in anticipation along with the other witches and wizards that occupied the hall. After a few more seconds, the Hat had stopped moving. Harry wondered if it had broken in some way, before his wondering was interrupted by the Hat calling out in its deep voice.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" It exclaimed. Hannah let out a sigh of relief and watched in awe as her robes were magically altered to adorn the Hufflepuff yellow. She practically jogged over to the Hufflepuff table, who had erupted into cheers in welcome of their new housemate. The celebration died down as quickly as it started once McGonagall read the next name on the list. Harry and Hermione each watched in fascination as someone was sorted, their robes changed colors, and their new house cheered for them. As the list of names began to enter the alphabetical area that would contain "Granger," Harry began to grow worried. What if he and Hermione weren't placed in the same house? Would they lose track of each other? Would they have only been friends for this day and nothing more? His concern must have been etched on his face, because Hermione picked up on it instantly.
"Harry? What's wrong? You look like you've eaten some rubbish shepherd's pie." Hermione chuckled at her own joke, hoping to ease Harry's tension, but once she saw it hadn't worked she grew serious. She pulled gently on his sleeve, causing him to look at her, and implored him to confide in her with her eyes.
"Hermione, what if we're not sorted together?" He released his worries to her. "What if we're sorted to different houses and we drift away from each other before we've had a chance to get to know each other?"
"Oh, Harry…" Hermione smiled at Harry's concern. In the short time they've known each other, Harry had become her best friend and she could tell that she had become his. "I don't think someone's house is the end-all-be-all for your friends at Hogwarts. I am one hundred percent certain that most of everyone that has been sorted in a prior year has made and maintained friendships with students who aren't in their house. We won't be any different."
Harry nodded, visibly relaxing from Hermione's confidence in their new friendship. He smiled down at her and turned and waited for McGonagall to call out Hermione's name. When she finally did, Hermione gave Harry a quick thumbs up before making her way up to the stool. Harry watched intently as the Hat began to make its deliberations on Hermione's future house. He smiled as she nervously chewed her bottom lip and repeatedly glanced from the crowd in the Great Hall, up to the moving brim of the Sorting Hat. She seemed to smile at something the Hat told her and her eyes sought Harry's in the crowd. When her gaze met his, she smiled brighter and waited for the Hat to announce her house.
"RAVENCLAW!" It called. Hermione smiled brightly as she witnessed her robes change to match the blue of the Ravenclaw house. The Ravenclaw students let out raucous cheers as Hermione briskly stode over to be seated with her housemates. She smiled and accepted congratulations from them, pats on the back, and a small, pointed black hat that was given to all of the newly sorted students. Harry met her gaze from his spot in the crowd and flashed her a thumbs up and mouthed "Congratulations." She mouthed a "Thank You" back and returned to watching the Sorting. Harry did the same, but soon heard a familiar voice from behind him.
"Oi, so that's where that slag gets sorted." A certain redhead said, receiving a laugh from one of his companions. It wasn't the Irish bloke that he had been with earlier, for he had been sorted into Gryffindor before Hermione because his name was apparently Finnigan. Seamus Finnigan. "If I'm sorted there I might as well throw myself off the Astronomy Tower."
Harry turned to confront the man that would speak so ill of Hermione, but was stopped by a round-faced young man who stood in his way.
"Oh there you are!" He said to Harry. "I've been looking for you ever since you got off the boat earlier."
"Hi," Harry said shortly. "I'm trying to have a little chat with your friend back there, so if you wouldn't mind getting out of the way–
"He's not my friend. Not anymore at least." The man interrupted. "His name is Ron and his family has known mine since before we were born and we grew up together, but I don't want to be around him anymore."
"Why's that?" Harry was genuinely interested in this change of heart.
"After hearing him on the boat earlier, I knew that he wasn't the type of person I wanted to hang around anymore. I'd never heard him or Seamus talk like that, but it's a major red flag for me. I wish I could say more, but my name is going to be called soon. I just wanted to apologize for not standing up to him and protecting you or your friend."
"Oh! Well I appreciate that! I'm sure Hermione would too!" Harry smiled at the young man who had begun trying to move to the front of the crowd but Harry quietly called to him. "What's your name?"
"You'll hear in a second!" He smiled back at Harry.
"Longbottom, Neville!" McGonagall's voice rang out.
"So it's Neville," Harry chuckled to himself and watched Neville's sorting with interest. If Neville was from a magical family and didn't agree with Ron's intolerance, there may be some hope for the magical world, afterall, Harry thought to himself.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat called out. Harry clapped for Neville while the Hufflepuffs accepted him into their ranks. Hermione had told him that Hufflepuff was the house of fairness and kindness, and Harry thought that may suit Neville nicely. He watched the young Longbottom take his seat and turned his attention back to the front of the Great Hall. He watched student after student be sorted into their houses and idly waited for his time to come. He obviously hoped to be sorted into Ravenclaw with Hermione, but he wouldn't mind being sorted into Hufflepuff either. He could accept Gryffindor as well, so long as he avoided Finnigan and Ron. He didn't know much about Slytherin house, but Hermione had told him that their commonrooms lie in the dungeons underneath the castle. Having spent the first eleven years of his life sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs, Harry didn't find the idea of sleeping in a dungeon all that appealing. He supposed he would have to get used to the idea if he was sorted into Slytherin, but he could make do.
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The names continued to ring out as more students were sorted. They had finally entered the "P's" and a young woman named Jane Pocinse was sorted into Hufflepuff. Harry began to grow nervous in his anticipation. He knew that he and Hermione would still be friends despite where he was sorted, but he couldn't help the excitement he was feeling from the looming decision. He knew that no matter which house he was sorted into, he would make the most of it and rise above any hardships he may experience. He watched as Jane stepped down from the stool and took a seat next to Neville at the Hufflepuff table, and turned his attention back to Professor McGonagall. She had remained silent before reading out the next name. Everyone watched her in anticipation, exchanging confused glances with each other at the pause. Harry watched as she took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and read out the next name.
"Potter, Harry."
The Great Hall erupted into whispers. People asked each other if this was finally the year he joined Hogwarts, others asked if they could see his scar from where they were sitting, and some asked who Harry Potter was. Those who asked who Harry Potter was, were quickly filled in on Harry's legend and also joined in on the awe that had fallen over the hall. Harry grimaced as he turned to find Hermione. She wore a worried expression and glanced around at Harry's on lookers. He met his eyes and gave a small nod, encouraging him to step forward. Harry slowly walked up to the small steps that led to the stool. He met Professor McGonagall's eyes and she gave a curt nod of greeting before gesturing him to sit down. Harry was about to do as he was told, but spotted an elderly man, dressed in ornate purple robes and wearing half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. Harry made eye contact with Albus Dumbledore who gave a small and encouraging smile. Harry shook off his shock at seeing the old wizard and nodded before taking a seat. Professor McGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto the young Potter's head.
"Well, well, well," A voice said in Harry's head. "It's finally time then. Hello, Mr. Potter."
"Are you speaking in my head?" Harry questioned silently and somewhat dumbly, for he already knew the answer. "Nevermind, don't answer that."
"I can sense many great things about you, Mr. Potter." The Hat said in Harry's mind. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, despite your question just a moment ago. I can tell you're quite brave. You've been missing from our world for sometime, Mr. Potter. It was brave of you to come back."
"What? Why is that brave?" Harry asked.
"You will find out in due time, lad. For now, let me continue your sorting. It is turning out to be quite challenging," the Hat revealed. "I can sense your trauma Mr. Potter. I can't tell what it is, but I can sense your desire for more. You want more out of your life than what has happened in your past. Ambition isn't necessarily a bad trait, don't push it away. Then again, there's your bravery again to be able to push through it."
Harry was in shock. He didn't know the Sorting Hat would delve into the darkest recesses of his mind. He felt mildly violated that it was used in his sorting process without his consent and he was powerless to stop it. Harry reasoned that it wasn't using these facts about him to condemn or pity him, the Hat was using his trauma to evaluate his bravery and ambition. To this though, the Hat commented on Harry's wit and made mention of Ravenclaw. At the mention of the House of Intelligence, Harry's eyes sought Hermione's, but the Sorting Hat had something to say about that as well.
"Ah, Loyalty. I sense your fierce loyalty, young man. What a powerful trait to house. Loyalty gives way to companionship, and none of us can ever exist without companions. Well, not happily in any sense." The Hat paused again, drawing out Harry's sorting to a record length. Harry looked up at Professor McGonagall, who was watching with rapt interest. Harry whipped his head around to face Dumbledore, who was watching with an astounded expression on his face. The numerous other staff members who sat at the elongated table watched with incredible interest and curiosity at the event. Clearly, Harry thought, This is some kind of anomaly. Harry turned back to the crowd of awestruck students and closed his eyes, hoping the Hat made its decision soon. As if someone had answered his silent prayer, the old piece of headwear let out a breath that was audible outside of Harry's mind. The young man's eyes flew open and looked up to the brim of the hat, anxiously waiting for the verdict.
"This is quite the anomaly." The Hat spoke, addressing the school. "Mr. Potter here has a case to be sorted into all four noble houses of Hogwarts. In his experiences, I can sense great bravery, intelligence, ambition, and loyalty. He has had to experience things in his nineteen years of life that many witches and wizards hope to not experience in their entire lives. He has survived using all of his faculties, even the ones he does not believe he possesses. Based on these factors, I have reached my final decision."
The Sorting Hat gave one final pause and appeared to fall dormant. It sat perfectly still on Harry's head. It didn't gesture, speak, or give any other indication that it was awake. Professor McGonagall was the first one to break the long silence in a rather impatient manner.
"Well? Which is it?" She yelled in both anticipation and impatience.
"I have decided that…" The hat seemed to take one final breath. "Mr. Potter will not be sorted into a house, for sorting him into any would be a disservice to his other qualities."
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AN - A cliffhanger?! In the fifth chapter?! Sorry, not sorry about that! Don't worry though, the next chapter is coming sooner than this one! To be honest, I'm not sure if this idea has been done before. I know fics where Harry is sorted into Slytherin are popular and I've seen a few where he's a Ravenclaw. These alternative houses gave me an idea: what if Harry isn't sorted into a house? What if his qualities are so matched with each other, that the Sorting Hat can't decide where to put him, and puts him by himself? I hope this caught you off guard, and I'm not sure how this is going to be perceived, but I hope this is a fresh new take. Speaking of new takes, I haven't read many fics where "blood-purity mentality" is prominent among non-Slytherins. My reasoning behind Ron believing in it (or at least some of the views of "blood-purity mentality") is that because the Second War hasn't taken place yet. Voldemort's (if he's even alive) followers have remained prominent in powerful positions in the Wizarding world. Lucius Malfoy is an example of this in canon. He is a powerful, pureblooded politician, who holds very bigoted views. In this AU, I figured that other magical families have had their ideologies poisoned to sympathize with Lucius' ideals. Which families have been infected by this? Is it only pureblood families or does it extend to half-bloods as well? How far does it extend in the magical world? These are all things for me to know, and you to read about in future chapters. I have a comment on the Claudia Schiffer and Tyra Banks reference from earlier in the chapter as well. I'm only 19 so they weren't really the supermodels of "my time." They were very popular in 1999 however, which is when this story starts off. I chose those two because they would be pop culture figures for the characters. As for the song for this chapter, I figured it would be Imagine by John Lennon. I know a lot of people felt like that was overplayed during lockdown, but its message of peace and unity is a good counter to the bigotry of the wizarding world. Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter!
