o0o0o0o
The Houses of Hogwarts
The existence of muggle-born witches and wizards has confounded the magical population for generations.
It is a well established fact that magic is inherited from parent to child and that breeding with muggles increases the chances of a non-magical child being born. It would be common sense then, to believe that it is impossible for a magical child to be born to two muggle parents, since they have no magic in their bloodline to pass on.
However, this is not the case. It is true that muggles have an almost non-existent chance of producing a magical child, but it is somehow still possible. There are many theories as to where muggle-borns get their magic from, but none of them have anywhere close to enough evidence to be considered fact.
The fact is, muggle-borns like Hermione Granger are always greeted with very different receptions by different parts of the Wizarding World, as well as in the Muggle World. This had been apparent from the moment Hermione had received her letter from Hogwarts. Her mother, of course, had told her that it was just an elaborate prank. This is understandable, since Mrs Granger had an extensive muggle education, where students are repeatedly told that magic was impossible.
Hermione's father, on the other hand, had been intrigued by the letter. In his eyes, this was a possible explanation for all of the strange things which seemed to happen around his daughter, and might also lead to a way for them to stop these things from continuing. He had argued with his wife about it for three days, until Hermione had put her foot down and told them that she was going to this Diagon Alley to find out for herself, whether they wanted to take her or not.
They had no choice but to agree at that point. Hermione was incredibly stubborn, and both of them were afraid that she might actually go through with it. So, like Harry, Ron and Daphne, they had followed the directions in the letter, to the Leaky Cauldron. When they had entered the dingy pub in the middle of London, the different opinions on muggle-borns had become even clearer.
Tom the Barman had been nothing but friendly with them. However, many of the patrons hadn't reacted to them quite as well. Hermione had felt very uncomfortable with how everyone in the room had stared at them. Most had been watching with confusion, since she and her parents were obviously muggles. Others had stared with suspicion, which Hermione would later learn was a due to lingering mistrust and a resentment of the Statute of Secrecy. There had been one man though, short and crooked, who had looked at them with nothing short of disgust on his face.
These reactions were repeated as they made their way down the alley itself, although nobody had a glare quite as venomous as the man from the pub. The only people who didn't seem to react to them being muggles were the goblins, but that may have been because they glared at everyone anyway. Hermione had been determined to discover why they were attracting so much attention, so the first thing she had read upon returning home was her guide to wizard culture.
This book had then lead her to her history books, where she had learned about many important events in wizard history, including the rise and fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The books she had read were incredibly vague on this topic and offered very few facts about what had actually happened, but they had all talked at a great length about the mystery of Harry Potter, so it is safe to assume that she was well aware of his importance to wizards.
This is why she, like everyone else in the compartment, was shocked into silence by the dark-haired boy standing up and calmly revealing his full name. It took a few seconds for what Harry had just said to sink in and, during those seconds, Hermione stared at him along with everyone else. The quiet was finally shattered by the sound of cold laughter.
The boy who had just appeared, Malfoy, threw his head back and began laughing loudly at Harry. The two boys who had followed him, Crabbe and Goyle, chuckled along with him uncertainly, as if they didn't quite get the joke. The blonde girl who'd helped her on the platform, Daphne, turned to look at Malfoy, but Ron the Redhead was still staring at Harry in disbelief. Harry himself was smirking at Malfoy confidently.
"Oh, that's a good one," said Malfoy, once he'd calmed down a bit, "Now I see why you're sat here Greengrass. This one is priceless. I'm Harry Potter. Did you honestly think you could get anyone with that?"
"I don't see what's funny," said Harry, unfazed by Malfoy's remarks.
"Just don't," said Malfoy, "You don't want to embarrass yourself any further. I get it though. Really I do, Harry Potter died ten years ago and he would have been our age right now, so why not pretend to be him. It would maybe catch a few mudbloods like this one off guard," He gestured to Hermione, "But nobody else is stupid enough to fall for it."
Hermione glared up at him. Ron and Daphne had explained that some wizards weren't fond of muggle-borns, but this boy just seemed like a bully. She got the impression that he didn't like anyone in this room, not even Daphne. Before she could snap at him for calling her that name again, Ron had already turned to him because of something else.
"Harry Potter's not dead," he protested.
"Oh please," said Malfoy, "If whatever happened in that house finished off the Dark Lord, then what chance did a baby have?"
"They didn't find a body-" started Ron.
"Of course they didn't," said Malfoy, speaking like Ron was five, "The house blew up Weasley. I doubt there was anything left of him to mop up, let alone a body."
"I hate to be the one to tell you Malfoy," said Daphne, looking like she didn't hate it at all, "But, my father told me that Harry Potter would be on the train today. Somehow, I doubt he'd lie about that."
"He didn't," said Harry, "I told you. I'm Harry Potter, look," he lifted his fringe to reveal a thin, jagged line on his forehead.
"The scar-" said Ron, awestruck.
"Can I?" asked Daphne, raising a hand to touch the mark.
Harry shrugged, "Go ahead."
Daphne reached out and traced the line gently with her fingers. "It's real," she said, sounding like she barely believed it herself.
"It can't be," said Malfoy, although he looked like he was starting to doubt himself.
"It is," Harry assured them.
"Prove it," said Malfoy harshly.
"Prove it?" said Harry, frowning, "How?"
Malfoy considered this for a moment. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, then looked at Daphne, then at Ron and back at Harry again.
"Say the name," said Malfoy smugly.
"Er- what?" said Harry.
"The Dark Lord's name," challenged Malfoy, "If you are Harry Potter, then I don't see why you would have any trouble saying his name."
This gave Harry pause. He began to look uncertain for the first time since he stood up, while Ron and Daphne began exchanging worried looks. Crabbe and Goyle were looking at Malfoy with unease and even Malfoy looked a bit put off by the idea of someone saying the name.
'Oh, really,' thought Hermione exasperatedly, 'It's just a name. Why is everyone so afraid of it?' Even her books had refused to print the name itself, instead referring to him as You-Know-Who. 'It's just silly,' she decided,'There's no need for-'
"V-Voldemort," choked out Harry.
The effect was immediate. Hermione felt a cold shiver run down her spine and she suddenly felt very unclean, like a bucket of the world's most revolting things had been dropped on her head. The rest of the compartment was equally affected. Daphne gasped in shock and Ron cringed away from Harry, scooting against the window. Crabbe and Goyle took a step back into the corridor, while Malfoy shivered heavily, his eyes widening. Harry looked the worst, though. His face had gone very pale and he looked like he was struggling to draw breath. It was almost like the word had gotten lodged in his throat.
"You- you said it," said Malfoy. He looked like he hadn't expected Harry to actually do it. "You can't- you're not meant to-" he was spluttering now. "Crabbe, Goyle; come on," he ordered abruptly, turning sharply and stalking off down the corridor. The other two were quick to follow.
Daphne looked conflicted for a moment, as if she couldn't decide whether to go after them or remain with the other three. Staying behind apparently won out, because she closed the door and quickly rounded on Harry.
"So," she spoke calmly, but her eyes were hard, "Just Harry?"
"Er- yes," said Harry, backing up towards the window.
She narrowed her eyes at him, then suddenly looked over to Hermione, who flinched at her look.
"Tell me, Granger," she said, "In the muggle world, does the word just mean something different? We use it to say something isn't that important, but that can't be what it means. If it did, then nobody would say they were just Harry Potter."
"Um-" said Hermione, glancing at Ron for help, but he seemed to agree with Daphne.
"It's- it's not that important really," said Harry, shrugging.
Both Ron and Daphne stared at him.
"Not important?" said Ron incredulously.
"Can you even hear what you're saying?" asked Daphne, "You're Harry Potter. That's about as important as you can get."
"I- uh-" Harry looked desperately to Hermione, but she didn't know what to say either.
At that moment, they were interrupted once more by the sound of the door opening. They all turned towards it. Hermione half expected it to be the Malfoy boy again, but it was actually a little old lady. She was dressed in the same uniform as the man who'd taken their tickets and was pushing a cart full of a variety of strange sweets.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked, seeming not to notice the tense scene she had walked in on.
"Yes, please!" said Harry enthusiastically, seeing an opportunity to escape the situation. He stepped outside and slid the door closed again.
"That's our great and mighty hero," said Daphne, taking her seat again, "Running for the door at the first opportunity."
"Well, he did say You-Know-Who's name," argued Ron, however he too seemed to have expected more from the boy who ended a war.
"I know," admitted Daphne, "And he stood up to Malfoy, as well. Then again, you two managed that pretty well. You just didn't have the right name to back it up."
"We did better than you," Ron reminded her, "You know, somehow I'm not surprised that you know him personally."
"Who is he," asked Hermione, "Malfoy, I mean."
"Draco Malfoy," said Ron, "I met him in Diagon Alley a couple of months back. My dad's got a lot of history with his family. He says that nothing good ever carried the name Malfoy."
"Your family also has a chronic hatred of people who wear green on their school robes," pointed out Daphne, "But the Malfoys do have a bad history. My father works quite closely with Lucius Malfoy, so I've seen a lot of Draco before. I did warn you that he wouldn't like me being here."
"I'll be honest, I half expected you to follow him," said Ron.
"So did I," said Daphne with a blank face.
Ron's face turned into a scowl at that. Hermione didn't know what the problem was between those two, but apparently it ran quite deep.
"Um- what exactly was it he called me?" she asked, hoping to defuse the situation.
Ron's eyes turned dark. "A mudblood," he spat, his hatred for the word clear, "You should've let me hit him Greengrass."
"You know that wizards have blood status, don't you?" explained Daphne, showing no reaction to Ron's violent words, "Like half-blood and pureblood. The whole idea comes from the fact that magic is passed on through bloodlines. So, if you marry into another bloodline, then your children are pure, but if you marry into a muggle line, then they're half, because only half their blood has magic in it. Well, nobody knew what to call kids with two muggle parents; newblood, no-blood, muggleblood- in the end we settled for just muggle-born."
Hermione nodded, she'd read up on that in The Pocket Guide to Wizard Culture.
"The families I mentioned, the ones that don't like muggles, they- they think that muggle blood is dirty, because it can remove magic from bloodlines. That's why the Twenty-Eight are considered purer. Mudblood is meant to be a- well, what they thought was a clever play-on-words of pureblood, since- well, you know- muggle-borns are essentially starting a- a dirty bloodline."
"That's horrible!" gasped Hermione, appalled at the idea. She'd known that some wizards disliked muggles, but she hadn't quite realised the extent of that hatred. The way Daphne described it was like this was just an accepted view of muggles, like it actually stemmed from a reasonable argument. It was a scary thought.
Daphne herself looked incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden. Something about Hermione's outburst was making her look- almost guilty. She turned away from Hermione and watched the rain that had started to fall outside.
'Your family is one of the Twenty-Eight,' Hermione remembered, 'So is Ron's. You said that's why you didn't want to be seen with me.' She suddenly felt like someone had poured ice-water over her, 'Is that why you tried to ditch me here, because you think muggles are filth? You were going to go with Malfoy. Would you have laughed with him about the little mudblood girl you got roped into helping, about what a clever play-on-words that name is?'
'No,' Hermione protested, realising how horrible she was being, 'You didn't go with Malfoy. You stayed with us and you never called me a mudblood. Even if your family thinks that way, it doesn't mean that you do as well. I'm just jumping to conclusions, aren't I?'
It was at that point that Harry returned.
o0o0o0o
Harry had left the compartment intending to buy as many Mars Bars as possible. However, it seemed even the sweets were different in the Wizarding World, so the armfuls of colourful things that he carried were all unfamiliar to him. Returning to the compartment, he noticed that the rain his uncle had promised had just started outside.
"What took you so long?" asked Daphne.
"I had to get a bit of everything," said Harry excitedly, "I never got to have muggle sweets that much, let alone magical ones. I want to know what I've been missing. Want anything?"
Before he'd even finished offering them to her, Daphne had grabbed something labelled Pumpkin Pasty and began ripping open the packaging. Harry laughed at her enthusiasm and dumped the rest into a pile in the middle of the floor, where everyone could reach it.
"Hungry?" he asked.
Daphne just nodded, her mouth to full to speak properly.
"You two help yourselves as well," said Harry, fishing out another pasty for himself.
"Uh- no thanks," said Ron, looking embarrassed, "I've- I've got this." He pulled a very squashed-looking, corned beef sandwich from his pocket.
"I don't know if should either," said Hermione, "My mum and dad don't like me eating too many sweets."
"They're my sweets and I say you can both help yourselves," said Harry firmly. He'd never been able to share anything before.
"Don't complain Potter," said Daphne, after swallowing a mouthful of pasty, "If they don't want any then that just means more for us."
Unsurprisingly, the idea of annoying Daphne was enough to convince Ron to abandon his sandwich and grab something from the pile. Hermione followed his lead a few moments later, tentatively taking a red-and-white-striped box of, what looked like, jelly beans.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans?" said Hermione, "They can't possibly have every flavour, can they?"
"Ha! You'd be surprised," laughed Ron, "They've got chocolate, peppermint, spinach, liver, vomit, grass-"
"I think we get the idea, Weasley," said Daphne.
"Best not to start with them," advised Ron, ignoring the other girl, "You might end up getting something like pepper or dirt. Don't want to ruin everything else we've got here."
Hermione shrugged and put the box back, looking for something different.
Daphne turned to Harry, just as she polished of the last of her pasty. "Don't think you can get out of this by bribing me with snacks, Potter," she said, brandishing her finger at him. The image probably would have been threatening, if her face wasn't covered in crumbs, "You should've told us who you were."
"I didn't want anyone to make a fuss," said Harry, trying again to brush it off as nothing.
"You're Harry Potter," she reminded him, "People are supposed to make a fuss."
"Well, it gets annoying," said Harry sharply, "It made getting my school things a nightmare. I don't even remember what happened with You-Know-Who, it's not like I'm anything special."
"But-" started Ron.
"Can we just drop it?" said Harry firmly, "It's not something I like to talk about anyway."
"Fair enough," said Daphne after a moment, "If you aren't special, then we can go back to treating you like you're just another muggle-born who doesn't know the first thing about magic, if you want."
"You know, when you put it like that, it doesn't actually sound much better," said Harry.
"Well, let me know when you've decided which one you want to be," said Daphne, grabbing another pasty, "Clueless nobody or clueless celebrity."
Harry snorted and picked up a small, pentagonal box labelled Chocolate Frog. "These aren't real frogs are they?" he asked, eyeing it suspiciously. At this point, there were few things left that would surprise him.
"Nah," said Ron, "They're chocolates. Just make sure you don't open one outside."
Harry snapped the box open and, sure enough, a fat little frog made of chocolate leapt out of it. Harry was so surprised that he didn't grab it immediately, but Ron managed to catch it in mid-air.
"See what I mean?" he said, offering the frog back to Harry.
"You have it," said Harry, "You caught it."
"Cheers," said Ron with a smile, "You keep the card though. I reckon I've already got it anyway."
"The card?" asked Harry.
"Famous Witches and Wizards Card," said Daphne, "Look in the bottom of the box, let's see who you've got."
Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning something about these cards. He looked in the box and found that there was indeed a small card there, the same shape as the container itself. The front of the card was a framed picture of a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and grey eyes. Actually, picture was the wrong word, the card looked like it was window into a tiny room. The deep blue tapestry which made up the background seemed to extend beyond the edges of the frame, and the woman in the foreground was moving. Beneath the strange picture, two words were written in tall, elegant handwriting.
"Rowena Ravenclaw," Harry read aloud.
"Oh you got a founder," said Daphne in surprise, "They're supposed to be really rare."
"Come off it. I must have at least five Hufflepuffs," said Ron.
"Well I imagine you have quite the collection with the way you're eating," replied Hermione, eyeing the pile of empty wrappers and boxes that had already appeared next to him with distaste.
"I do actually," replied Ron proudly, either ignoring or completely missing the comment on his eating, "I reckon I've got nearly five-hundred of them."
Harry, tuning out the conversation, flipped the card over and started reading the description on the back:
Rowena Ravenclaw
942 – 1048
Born during 942 in the glens of Scotland.
One of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (993) and first head of the Ravenclaw House of Learning.
Responsible for the design and creation of the famous Diadem of Ravenclaw.
Accomplished many other great feats in her lifetime, including the creation of the only known map of Hogwarts Castle.
Died of natural causes at the age of 106.
Rowena Ravenclaw is most well known from her later life, when she worked with those who would become her fellow Hogwarts Founders; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Little else is known about her life before this time, although there is evidence that the Ravenclaw Family existed before Rowena, therefore it is likely that she was born or married into the family and did not found it herself. Rowena Ravenclaw's body is said to be entombed somewhere within the depths of Hogwarts Castle and, although many claim to have discovered it over the years, its whereabouts remain unknown.
"So she helped build Hogwarts then?" asked Harry. The card had made him curious about his new school.
"Along with the other founders, yes," supplied Hermione, "Each one of them gave their name to one of the houses that Hogwarts is divided into."
"What is it with these houses, anyway?" asked Harry, "Everyone keeps mentioning them. Why are they so important?"
"Well, once we get to Hogwarts its treated as a competition," said Ron, "And I hear we get sorted right after we arrive as well."
"What do you know about the sorting?" asked Hermione, "I couldn't find anything on it in my books."
"It's supposed to be a secret until you arrive," replied Ron, "But Fred and George said it was some kind of test."
"A test," repeated Harry worriedly, "As in a magical test?"
"No, more like a test of personality," explained Daphne, "The houses are all based off certain characteristics. So, Ravenclaws are meant to be smart, Gryffindors are brave-"
"Slytherins are liars and cheaters," finished Ron.
Daphne glared at him.
"Never mind the houses, what is it with you two?" demanded Hermione, "Everything we talk about you end up at each others throats. Is it because of what you were talking about earlier, about purebloods and those Sacred Thirty-"
"Twenty-Eight," Daphne corrected automatically, "And no not entirely. It's just that Weasley here comes from a long family of Gryffindors and I'm from a long line of Slytherins. Those two houses typically don't get along."
"Don't leave out the best bit," said Ron, "The only people who ever joined You-Know-Who during the war were all Slytherins."
"That's just a myth," said Daphne coolly, "He had far too many followers for them all to be Slytherins."
"Maybe it is, but what about Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, Black?" pointed out Ron, "They were all accused Death Eaters, and they're all very Slytherin families."
"They were all cleared, Weasley," said Daphne haughtily, "They were accused, they had a trial, they were found innocent."
"The Blacks weren't," argued Ron, "They're still in Azkaban right now."
"So you're going to base the house off what one family did?" said Daphne, "I'd say I expected better from you, but to be honest I really didn't."
"Probably still more than I expect from you," snapped Ron, his ears turning red.
"Will you both stop!" protested Hermione loudly, "You're arguing like children. Can't you find anything better to do than snap at each other about everything?"
"Oh, like you're snapping at us now?" asked Ron scathingly.
"Why don't you stay out of this Granger," said Daphne, "You won't understand anyway."
"Why, because I'm a muggle-born?" asked Hermione, "Or a mudblood?"
"Don't say that word," said Ron, looking aghast.
"Why not? You're both thinking it, aren't you?" said Hermione.
"Of course not!" Ron and Daphne both spoke at the same time. They blinked and shot a dark look at each other. There was a moment's pause in the argument.
"Look, can we just change the subject?" asked Harry, seeing his opportunity, 'I should never have brought it up.'
"Yes, let's," said Hermione quickly. Apparently, she hadn't wanted to start a fight either.
"Fine," said Daphne, "Pass me another pasty."
Ron just nodded stiffly, already ripping open another chocolate frog.
The conversation became very stilted from then on. They mainly sat and ate sweets in silence, with Harry or Hermione occasionally trying to start a conversation, which inevitably died. The sky outside began to darken as the rain stopped, and a pair of magical lamps sparked to life above their heads, bathing the group in a soft orange glow.
The awkwardness was only lifted when Harry suggested that they get started on the Every Flavoured Beans. Something about sharing the beans made it very difficult for them to stay cold with each other. Perhaps it was the shared hilarity when one of them picked out something particularly unusual. Harry managed to find beans that were strawberry, peanut, egg white, steak and carrot. He was feeling pretty good about it, until he swallowed a red-orange one that turned out to be chilli powder. The image of him coughing and spluttering at the heat of it seemed to be enough to push past whatever problem Ron and Daphne had with each other, since they seemed perfectly at home laughing at his misery together. Only Hermione actually seemed concerned, but Harry didn't mind. He got his revenge soon after when Ron spat out a bean that he swore tasted exactly like his mother's corned beef sandwiches.
It wasn't long after that the door slid open yet again. This time, it was a round-faced boy, wearing black Hogwarts robes.
"Um- excuse me," said the boy, looking incredibly nervous, "You- you haven't seen a toad anywhere have you?"
"Nope, sorry," said Ron, "Just chocolate ones."
"I don't know, at the rate Ron was eating them, I doubt he'd have even noticed if one of them was actually real," commented Harry.
Daphne sniggered beside him and Ron sent an affronted look at them both.
"I- I lost him earlier," said the boy, who was, if possible, looking even more worried, " Trevor, I mean- he's my toad- I really need to find him before we get to Hogwarts."
"I can help you look if you want," said Hermione, smiling brightly at him, "We're nearly at Hogwarts and another pair of eyes will make it quicker. I'm sure someone on the train must have seen him. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I- I- uh-" the boy was looking very nervous at this point, "It's fine, I- um- I should go," he said in a rush, pushing the door closed and fleeing down the corridor.
Hermione sat down again, looking disappointed and confused. "Well that was silly," she complained, "Why would he come to ask for help and then run off like that?"
"I think you might have scared him off," said Harry.
"Yes, he did look very jumpy didn't he?" said Daphne.
"That was a Hufflepuff if ever I saw one," chuckled Ron, in what looked like agreement.
"What's wrong with Hufflepuffs?" asked Hermione.
"Nothing's wrong with them," said Ron.
"Nothing's right with them either," added Daphne, "They're the overflow house. If you're not particularly brave or smart or anything, then you'll probably be in Hufflepuff."
Harry glanced at Ron, preparing himself for another argument. For once however, the red-head seemed to completely agree with Daphne, nodding along with what she said.
"That's not fair," said Hermione, "I doubt that the founders made a house that was supposed to be worse than all the others."
"They didn't," said Daphne, "Hufflepuff is meant to be about loyalty or family or something like that."
"But everyone knows that it's just for people who don't fit into the other three houses," finished Ron, "You never really stand out if you're in Hufflepuff. You're just the average student, nothing really special about you at all."
"I'm sure that there's some people who actually fit the bill for being in Hufflepuff, but if there are, then they're mixed in with all the other rabble," said Daphne.
Harry wasn't entirely convinced about that and, from the look on her face, neither was Hermione. Before either of them could think of a counterargument however, they felt the train begin to slow down and a calm voice rang through the train, seeming to come from nowhere at all.
"Arriving at Hogsmeade Station. Please leave all luggage on the train, it will be collected and brought to the school separately."
Harry was suddenly hit with a wave of nerves. 'I'm here,' he thought, 'This is Hogwarts. I'm at magic school.' No matter how many times he told himself, the idea never got any more believable.
Looking around, he saw that the others looked just as nervous as he felt. Hermione was bouncing in her seat and fidgeting, she looked like she couldn't decide whether to be excited or terrified. Ron, on the other hand, had turned very pale under his freckles and was staring out of the window silently. Even Daphne had wrapped her arms around herself and was biting her lip hard, her blue eyes kept darting to each of them in turn.
The train finally came to a halt and students began to pour out into the corridor. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Daphne joined the crowd and were swept out of the train and onto the platform. The air outside was cold and biting after the warmth of the train. They all wrapped their robes tighter around themselves.
From nearby, Harry heard a familiar booming voice echoing across the platform, "Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!"
Harry smiled widely and turned to the others. "This way," he said, moving off towards the voice.
As he pushed past a few older students who were going in the other direction, Harry reached the enormous form of Rubeus Hagrid, who was carrying a huge lantern. "Hi Hagrid!" he greeted, beaming up at the giant.
Hagrid looked down and his face lit up. "All righ' Harry," he said warmly, "See yeh made it onto the platform righ'."
Harry nodded and Hagrid smiled, before turning back to the crowd, "Firs' Years over here! Firs' Years! Don't follow yer siblings! Firs' Years are over here!"
Harry turned back to the other three and laughed aloud when he saw them all staring up at Hagrid in awe. Eventually, the first years began gathering around Hagrid and everyone else disappeared into the tree line nearby.
"Where's Granger?" said Daphne suddenly.
Harry and Ron turned. The bushy-haired girl had completely vanished from behind them. No sooner than had Harry opened his mouth to say he didn't know, they spotted her running towards them. Her hair looked wilder than ever.
"All righ'," said Hagrid, "Everyone here? Good, now follow me." He turned and led them along the platform, into the trees nearby.
"Where did you go?" Harry asked Hermione.
"I- I saw him, near the steps onto the train," she said, showing them a fat toad which was sat in her arms.
Daphne seemed to understand immediately and said, "You can't see that Hufflepuff boy anywhere, can you?"
The four of them craned their necks over the crowd, but none of them could spot the boy who'd lost his toad. They continued following Hagrid through the trees, until they arrived at a long, wooden boathouse.
"No more'n four to a boat," said Hagrid, "An' don't worry abou' oars, jus' keep yer hands an' feet inside."
"There he is!" said Ron, as they stepped through the doors. The boy was not far away, climbing into one of the boats.
Ron moved off towards him and Hermione followed, leaving Harry and Daphne behind, who ended up sharing a boat with two people they didn't know. One was a tall boy with a long, horse-like face, and the other was a chubby girl with hair even redder than Ron's.
Hagrid himself ended up in a boat on his own and still looked too big for it. "Everyone in?" he said, glancing back to check, "Good, good. Forward!"
The boats lurched slightly, then began to glide smoothly across the water. Hagrid, being at the front, disappeared through the doors immediately, but Harry and Daphne were a bit further back. They watched as the other boats in front of them left the building one by one, until eventually it was their turn.
Outside the boathouse, the area opened up into a huge lake. The surface of the water was dark and calm, like a sheet of black glass, and it extended out far to either side, ending at a rocky shore on one and a line of dark trees on the other. In front of them, the shoreline rose upwards sharply into a jagged cliff face.
Atop this cliff sat Hogwarts.
Harry heard many people around him gasp as they saw it and he couldn't help but make a similar sound of awe. The castle was both tall and wide. The building itself was gigantic and sprawled across the entire hill, but there were also too many towers to count, all of which reached high into the air above them. Across the dark surface of the walls, warm lights could be seen shining through windows that looked like tiny glowing gemstones. As they approached the rocks, the castle only seemed to grow bigger, looming over them in the darkness, yet somehow Harry couldn't find it in himself to be threatened by it. Something about the image felt right to him, like it was welcoming him back to a home he didn't even know he had. They passed beneath the shadow of an overhang and the castle disappeared from view.
"HOLD!" boomed Hagrid.
The little fleet of boats came to a stop, not far from the rocky wall before them. The group of tiny first years sat there for a minute, waiting for something to happen. From nearby boats, Harry could hear people beginning to complain and ask what they were waiting for. The other boy in Harry's boat was tutting loudly. Harry looked over at Daphne and saw that she too looked confused.
"Is this it?" she breathed, her teeth chattering from the cold.
"Maybe- maybe Hagrid forgot to do something," said Harry. As much as he liked the big man, he did seem a bit clumsy.
Daphne turned to him and gave a particularly violent shiver, "Well, if he doesn't get a move on then someone out here is going to get-"
BOOM!
The thunderous sound sent wide ripples across the lake, rocking the boats from side to side. Harry and Daphne both jumped. In front of them, the red-haired girl made a little eep! sound in surprise, and the horse-faced boy nearly fell from the boat.
One of the massive rocks which reached out of the water suddenly gave a great lurch and began to shake. The surface of the lake around it started to bubble and it slowly began to sink into the darkness with a loud hissing sound. As it vanished beneath the water, it revealed a heavy curtain of ivy behind it, which covered a large opening in the cliff.
At Hagrid's command, the boats started moving again. Harry ducked beneath the ivy and looked around. They had entered a tall cave, which must have been illuminated by some kind of magic, for even though the cavern was filled with blue-green light, Harry could not see anything that would produce it. Built into the far wall was another boathouse, identical to the first in every way, except this one was made of stone. The boats came to stop again inside and everyone clambered out. Behind them, Harry could hear the entrance sliding closed again.
Once everyone was out of the boats, Hagrid led them to a set of wide stone stairs. They climbed several flights, which twisted and turned like tunnels, until they reached an opening. In the dim light of the moon, Harry could just make out that they were stood in a wide courtyard. They followed the big man across the courtyard and through an archway, onto a large area of damp grass. A pair of great oak doors stood not far to their left at the top of a few low steps.
Hagrid climbed the steps in one stride and knocked three times on the door. With a loud creak, the doors swung open, although whatever was inside was obstructed by Hagrid's back.
"The Firs' Years, Professor," said Hagrid.
"Thank you Hagrid," replied a woman's voice, "You can join the others in the Great Hall."
Hagrid nodded and stepped through the doors, revealing the woman he had been talking to. She was quite tall and her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, which, combined with her severe face, made her look like a very strict librarian.
"If you will follow me please," she said to the first years. Her stern voice matched her image perfectly.
She turned and walked back into the castle, leaving the first years to scramble up the steps after her. The castle's Entrance Hall was gigantic. The floor was flagged stone and had been polished until it reflected the glimmer of the great chandelier above it like a mirror. To the left, a great set of marble stairs led to the upper floors, while on the right were four giant hourglasses, top halves filled with different coloured gemstones. The ceiling soared high above them and was decorated with carved gargoyles in the shape of lions, eagles, badgers and serpents. Directly in front of the group stood a set of grand double doors, the Hogwarts crest carved into their wooden surface. Between the hourglasses and either side of the marble staircase, were smaller doors of a similar design, which probably led to other wings of the castle.
The first years approached the large doors with the Professor. She stopped in front of them and turned to face her new students. From behind the doors, Harry could just make out the murmurs of sound, meaning the rest of the school had already arrived.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the Professor, "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. In a few moments, we will begin the Welcome Feast, but before we do, you must be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony may very well be the most important event during your time at Hogwarts. You will take lessons with you house. You will eat with your house. You will share dormitories and Common Rooms with your house. Your house will be like your family here, and your actions will affect the entire house. Both the good and the bad."
She gestured to the four hourglasses, drawing everyone's attention to them. Like most things Harry had seen from Hogwarts, they were colour-coded. The gemstones within them were red, green, blue and yellow respectively. Atop each stood a tall statue. Above the red, it was a man made of gold, on the yellow was a woman carved from black iron, the blue had a woman of bronze and the green had man made of silver.
"These hourglasses," continued Professor McGonagall, "Will be used to track the house points that are gained and lost by each house over the year. Successes, both in and out of the classroom, will gain you points for your house. Rule breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the House Cup. This is meant to encourage healthy competition among students."
Harry heard a few people snickering in the crowd, however all that stopped after one hard look from McGonagall.
"The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Named, as many of you no doubt know, for the four founders of this school. Each house has a long history and has produced many great witches and wizards, all of whom started exactly where you are now. So, if you wish to follow their example, I suggest you straighten yourselves up, while I see if the rest of the school is ready for you."
She opened the door a crack and stepped through, closing it quickly behind her. For the short moment the door was open, the sounds of loud talking and laughter washed over them, then died out soon after it was closed. Harry noticed that people around him were indeed straightening up. He hastily tried to flatten his hair.
"Ooh, look!" said Daphne suddenly, grabbing Harry by the arm and pointing.
Harry followed her finger and gasped. At the top of the stairs, a translucent white figure was floating a few feet off the ground. As Harry watched, another figure joined the first, appearing straight out of the wall next to him.
"Are they-" whispered Harry.
"Ghosts," finished Daphne, looking excited, "There's one for each house I hear. Like a patron ghost. I think that one's the Fat Friar, he's the ghost for Hufflepuff, and the one next to him is Sir Nicholas, the ghost of Gryffindor."
Harry looked at her. Her blue eyes were wide while she spoke and she had a big stupid grin on her face. It wasn't a face he'd expected to see from the cold, sarcastic girl.
"You- er- like ghosts," he guessed.
"How can you not?" she said, turning to him, "Nobody knows anything about them, not even they know how they came back. Besides, they've died and come back again, that's supposed to be impossible. It's fascinating."
Harry didn't know how to respond to this other side of Daphne. Fortunately, he didn't have to, because McGonagall returned at that moment.
"Oh, there you are!" she called towards the Ghosts, who turned to her.
"Ah, Minerva!" one of them replied, floating towards her over the heads of the first years, who gawked at him. This ghost was the one Daphne had called Sir Nicholas, and he was wearing a very large ruff and a pair of tights, while the one who followed him was the Fat Friar.
"The others are already inside," said McGonagall, "I trust you have good reason for being late, Sir Nicholas."
Apparently, Professor McGonagall's glare was still a deadly fright even if one was already dead, since Sir Nicholas bowed respectfully and adjusted his ruff in embarrassment. "Of course Professor," he said, looking like a scolded child, "The Friar here was trying to convince me to ask you to allow Peeves to join the feast this year."
"Well, we are being unnecessarily harsh don't you think," said the Friar, "He's as much a ghost as the rest of us, he has a right to-"
"For the final time, Peeves is not permitted within the Great Hall," interrupted McGonagall sharply, "Under any circumstances."
"Now, now Minerva-" began the Friar.
"If you would care to join your house tables," said McGonagall with the air of a command, "Then we can proceed with the Sorting without any further delays."
"Of course," said Sir Nicholas, "Come now Friar, let's not waste the good woman's time any more than we already have."
The two ghosts bowed to McGonagall again and floated towards the door, disappearing through it. The first years continued to stare at the door even after they were gone.
"Now then," said McGonagall, "Form a line everyone. Two-by-two, if you please."
Harry and Daphne moved side-by-side into the line, ending up stood behind a sandy-haired boy and a boy with dark skin. Once all of the new students were in line, McGonagall stood straight at the head of the column, facing the door.
"Now stay in line behind me, if you please," she said, before pushing open the doors and leading them into the Great Hall.