Hogwarts was everything he'd imagined and more. Harry had to keep reminding himself to look down as he walked so he didn't trip, but he was equally pleased he wasn't the only one. His year mates were also gaping up at the massive castle on the mountainside, even Draco.
Before they climbed into the boats on the shore of the lake, Harry used every technique his father had ever taught him to fix that image of the castle in his mind, high and untouched by the cares of the world, surrounded by stars, with lights glowing in every window to lead them all home. When he was able to close his eyes and see the castle as if they were still open, he climbed into a boat with Draco, Neville, and a boy he recognized from the train as Blaise Zabini.
They were about halfway across the lake when a red-haired boy in a boat ahead of them stood up, overbalanced, and fell into the water. There were cries of alarm from their year mates, but Harry didn't panic. He refused to – he'd been taught better (panic is careless is a trail is a death sentence). He'd been (playfully) hunted by one of humankind's few predators (as training); someone falling into a lake was nothing to flip out over.
He directed Draco to sit at the center of their boat and hang on to Harry's waist, while Blaise and Neville held on to Draco from the far side of the boat. As they passed the struggling student, Harry grabbed ahold of him, and together all four of them successfully heaved him into their boat, although it rocked dangerously.
The boy coughed and sputtered but managed a wet "Thanks!"
Their boat sailed on to join the others in a small harbor in a cavern under the castle. The enormous bearded man who had led them from the train – Hagrid, the groundskeeper – bustled over to make sure the swimmer was all right. The boy assured him he was, so he led their group toward the castle.
"Thanks back there," said the boy even as he wrung out his robes, "I'm not sure what happened. I just wanted to get a better look at the castle. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."
Draco burst out laughing, but muffled it to snickers when Harry shot him an unimpressed, exasperated look. "Please ignore my friend here; he doesn't know any better," he said dryly (which earned an indignant "Hey!), "I'm Harry Potter."
The other boy's jaw dropped, wide brown eyes taking in his face before flicking up to his forehead. Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and pushed his hair back so Ron could see the scar even in the dim lighting.
"Wicked," said Ron.
Harry introduced Draco and Neville, and subtly reminded the former that same house or not, he was more or less stuck with the same group of people for the next seven years, directly or indirectly. It wouldn't do to make lifelong enemies so early. "You want to go into Slytherin, don't you? So use that Slytherin cunning, and pick your battles. Ones such as this are better left unfought – at least for now." That had been one of the first things Will had taught him (although at the time it had been about helping Hannibal in the kitchen. The eldest High Wendigo had maintained that he had been too young; Harry had been determined to prove him wrong).
Together, they followed Hagrid to the doors of the castle, where he knocked heavily.
The doors opened almost immediately. A stern-looking woman stood there, dressed in deep green robes, calling her Professor McGonagall. Harry studied her as she led them to a small chamber off the castle's entrance hall.
Once they were gathered inside, she said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. 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 like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room." She went on to name the four houses and explain about the House Cup, then said, "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 gaze lingered on several people, most notably a still-damp Ron. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."
When she had gone, Ron swallowed and turned to the others. "Do any of you know how they 'sort' us? Fred – one of my brothers – said it was a test that hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
The paleness of his face said otherwise. Draco was looking a bit peaky, too, and Neville was as white as a sheet, clutching Trevor tight enough that Harry felt compelled to take the toad from him before he killed it on accident. "It sounds like Fred was pulling your leg, Ron," said Harry, "None of us would be here if the Sorting was painful – well, most of us. Our parents wouldn't allow it. And considering that we're so young and there are people among us who probably haven't even looked at their books since they were purchased, it's probably not going to be a test of magical skill, either." He noticed that Draco started looking anywhere but at his face. "It's probably going to be something simple, so relax, Neville."
The boy looked reassured at that, and so did several people around them who had undoubtedly been eavesdropping.
After an unexpected encounter with the castle's ghosts, they were led into the Great Hall. The rest of the student body was already seated at long tables in the main section of the hall, with the teachers at a perpendicular table on a dais at the far end from the door.
McGonagall led them up to a stool in front of the teachers' table. On the stool was a hat, a worn and patched wizard's hat, the point sagging with age. Harry raised an eyebrow at it, right before a rip near the brim opened and the hat started to sing. It sang cheerfully about Hogwarts and the four houses, but other things it said made Harry curious. It could read his mind? Thanks to his father, he knew there were things about himself that even he didn't know, so it made him intensely curious about what the Hat would see and where it would place him.
Draco went to Slytherin, of course. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted its decision to the Hall.
Neville went to Hufflepuff after a few minutes of deliberation. The boy looked relieved, and ran to his House's table with the Hat still on his head.
When Harry's name was called, the whole hall went silent. As he walked up, he glimpsed a number of students craning their heads or climbing up onto their benches to get a good look at him as he climbed the steps to the stool. He sat, and Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on his head.
'Oh my,' said the Hat inside his mind, 'Difficult, very difficult. So many aspects of each of the Houses,, yet each tempered by another. Loyal but not blind, brave but not foolhardy, cunning but not cruel, and intelligent but not unwise. Very difficult indeed.'
'Is that going to be a problem?' Harry asked the Hat.
'Certainly not. I'll get you sorted eventually, but where? That's the crux of it. Hmm… Everywhere I look I see aspects of each House. You're loyal to your friends and family, willing to go anything to protect them, even charge into battle head-first, but that is tempered by the knowledge that many of them can take care of themselves.'
It pondered a few moments more. 'You're very aware of yourself and your limits, too – so wise for one so young. Now that you have the freedom to learn, you're eager to do so, and eager to prove yourself. Rather be known for what you can do, rather than what was done to you, eh?'
Harry smiled a little. It was true. He had looked himself up, him and this "Dark Lord," and decided exactly that. It was more likely that his parents had done some sort of spell or ritual or something to protect him – they should be the ones being damned-near worshipped; he was just the recipient of whatever blessing they had imparted. He wanted to be himself first and foremost, not "The Boy Who Lived."
'That settles it, then,' said the Hat, 'Hufflepuff would do you no good, loyal and hardworking though you are – they tend to stay out of the limelight, fade into the background, which isn't what you want. Gryffindor is out, too – your brave soul would fit well there, but they would shun you and tear you apart if ever you took a less-than-purely-noble path, which surely you will; your Slytherin side will do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. But a true Slytherin wouldn't have hesitated to take advantage of their existing fame and propel themselves to further glory. You want to start fresh and learn all you can to make a different name for yourself.
'Good luck, Mr Potter. I look forward to seeing what you can do in-'
"RAVENCLAW!"