A different kind of Magic

by Night of StarClan

After a battle of the magical cats at the last ball, Munkustrap, Demeter and Mistoffelees find themselves ina new place, with new forms and a new destiny. But what does Hogwarts hold in store for our favourite conjuring cat? Nothing good when being close friends with Harry Potter right?

4. The Sorting

Neither Cats nor Harry Potter belong to me.

R&R please.

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Last Chapter:

From close it looked just a magnificent as from afar. Not everyone would necessarily call the castle beautiful, but it had its own kind of beauty. Just like the Junkyard, realised Misto while he looked around. Somehow this small similarity between Hogwarts and his home made his heart ache a little less.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door. Many of the others gasped for air already, but Misto still felt quite fit and it hadn't been that much of a walk, though he admitted the connection between the underground harbour and the castle could be built better.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Neville nodded and Hagrid raised a gigantic fist

He knocked three times on the castle door.

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The door swung open immediately, giving Misto the strong suspicion that whoever opened it had waited for them. He narrowed his eyes, but couldn't make out more than the form of a woman. The light came from behind her. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here", answered Professor McGonagall. She pulled the door wide and now Misto saw her clearer. She was a tall, black-haired witch with green eyes and wore emerald green robes. Her face was quite stern and Misto was certain you'd want to cross her as little as you'd want to cross an annoyed Jenny.

And you didn't cross an annoyed Jenny if you valued your life.

Now Misto looked around in the entrance hall. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones he saw at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out. Considering a big marble stair-case led up and up and up and up, it wasn't surprising. For a second Misto wondered if this castle could be even bigger than it looked from the outside.

They followed Professor McGonagall through the hall, Misto walking behind Harry and Ron. The two were looking around in awe, but with Misto another feeling was far more prominent.

He felt homesick. Not for the house in Ramsgate, but the Junkyard. His guess outside had been right. The castle had its very own kind of beauty and a very homely feeling…just like the yard. Misto blinked tears away when an image of a worried sick Victoria popped into his mind. Despite Misto being the more mature cat, Victoria was his older sister and worried about him as much as he worried about her.

"You hear that too?" Harry's voice snapped Misto out of his musings and he concentrated on his ears. Oh yes, he could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right. "Suppose everyone else is already here", answered the other black-haired. Ron only gave a nervous grunt while Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

They crowded in, standing rather close together.

He saw some looking uncomfortable, but Misto, who'd gone through a terrible winter once, wasn't too bothered.

More than half of the Junkyard's populations could have died if Munkustrap hadn't ordered all of them to leave their dens and sleep in either Jenny's or Jelly's. Munkustrap, like a few others, had gone home to their owners, yet the silver tabby had made his way to the Junkyard almost every day, ending up with a cold in the end, but not one dead Jellicle.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "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 something like your family within Hogwarts." Again like the Junkyard, thought Misto sadly. Just because you weren't blood-related to more than a few, or had no blood-relation at all, that didn't make you less part of the 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."

Misto frowned at this and raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Can we go out onto the grounds unsupervised as well or do we have to stay inside?", asked the boy. A surprised look crossed the woman's features. Obviously not many had ever thought of asking that question.

Then she caught herself and explained: "You are allowed out on the school-grounds of course. Yet there are certain restrictions, which the headmaster will inform you about after the sorting…Now, the four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour." Her expression started to slightly resemble a frown and Misto wondered if her house had lost more often than not lately. "I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. 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 eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair, gaining a laugh from Misto. "That won't work bud", chuckled the former cat and quickly shoved the pang in his heart away. Bud was what Tugger used to call him. Harry slapped his arm good-naturedly while Ron snickered. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron and Misto, nervousness clear in his voice. Sure, Misto felt nervous too, but it wasn't that extreme. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Misto raised an eyebrow. At test? He doubted the truth behind that. Harry's eyes had gone wide though. A test in front of the whole school didn't sound too appealing to Misto either, but he still doubted it. What were they supposed to test, after all? Harry looked around anxiously and Misto copied him, to see that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except, Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need Misto kept his eyes fixed on the door.

Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and then everyone would realised that it couldn't be that bad. At least that was Misto was trying to tell himself.

To his shock, but also delight, he felt his old magic coming back to him. The magic of the castle obviously affected it. Yet this also caused him to be more…open about certain things. He practically tasted everyone's panic and had trouble fighting it down. Sure, reading Aura's and emotions was Coricopat's job, but he and his twin sister had been Misto's mentors for quite a while, Misto was bound to learn a bit about their powers too.

Then something happened.

A shudder ran down Misto's spine. His magic told him that something…not quite alive was here. Several people behind him screamed. "What the —?", asked Harry and turned around, only to gasp. Misto turned as well, and gasped too. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. To Misto it seemed like they were arguing over something.

What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar", argued a ghost in tights. "Haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

That was when the ghosts had finally noticed the group of first years. Nobody answered and Misto rolled his eyes. He may pose as an eleven year old boy, but he was one of the most mature kittens the Jellicles had, also the conjuring cat and had faced Macavity a few times, the last time alone. Ghosts weren't even in the Top-5 of his Scary-List. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. "Professor McGonagall had returned. Misto closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before forcing everyone's emotions away from him, so he could concentrate on his own. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now then, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years. The first years tried, but it was more of a crowd anyway.

With Harry and Ron in front of him, Misto walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Misto had never seen such a strange yet incredible place. Thousands and thousands of candles were floating in mid-air over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years through the tables, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Misto felt like he was transported back in time, to the morning after he'd brought Old Deuteronomy back from Macavity. The cats in the Junkyard had been so awed at everything the black tuxedo could do, it was embarrassing. Especially when Misto always had to remind them that, despite his powers, he was still the same tom he used to be as Quaxo.

Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Misto followed Harry's lead and looked upward. What he saw was what seemed like a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." As did I, thought Misto. Yet even having read the book, it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Misto looked down again when Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. It certainly has a rich and interesting history, Munkus would say, probably. Everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence.

Then the hat twitched.

A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing. And he was singing quite well.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty

But don't judge on what you see

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me."

"You can keep your bowlers black

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all"

"There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be. "

At that part Misto had caught up with the melody the hat used for his song and couldn't stop himself, he hummed along. It was quite relaxing too.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;"

"You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil"

"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;"

"Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,"

"So put me on! Don't be afraid

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song and Misto joined eagerly. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Misto, his face red. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Harry smiled weakly as well and Misto though; Yes, trying on the hat is a lot better than having to do a spell.

Misto still wasn't certain which house he could be in, for all he knew he fit into all four well.

As conjurer he had to cunning, as magical cat in itself smart and as a Jellicle brave and loyal. In the, it seemed to lie with the hat's assessment. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward now, holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause — "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Misto looked after her and saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. Brocklehurst Mandy went to Ravenclaw too. But Brown Lavender became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Misto could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. He frowned. Why these whistles were called catcalling was a mystery and personal insult to the former tom. While his attention was on the twins, Bulstrode Millicent then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Misto finally noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. Wonder how it'll be with me. If he can really read my mind then…won't he know?

Finnigan Seamus, the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned while Misto watched Hermione interested. Her gaze had wandered to Harry, Ron and him and she'd seen Ron's reaction, which in turn had caused the light in her eyes to dim a bit. She is lonely, realised Misto while he looked after the bushy-haired girl. And has obviously no experience with making friends, though she'd like to have some. Maybe I should try being nicer to her. Somehow I get the feeling she'd be a great friend, once she's loosened up a bit.

"Jellicle, Misto."

Professor McGonagall calling his name snapped Misto out of his thoughts and he took a deep breath, before he straightened up and walked up to the stool slowly. He sat down and carefully placed the hat on his head.

"Most particular." He almost cried out when a voice sounded in his head, but it already said: "Calm child. I'm the Sorting Hat and you happen to have a very interesting history."

Tell me about it, thought Misto.

"Well, let's see. Left on the streets by the mother, trying to protect your younger sister before two very nice Jellicle toms found you. One of them being in the same mishap you are right now. But where to put you…" The hat trailed off. "You are cunning and have wits, as are you clever and smart and loyal to those that deserve your loyalty, not to mention that you always face your fears to protect those you care about. Otherwise you wouldn't have accepted this Macavity's request for a duel." A memory appeared in Misto's head and he almost chocked on his breath. It was the night this all had started. How he'd watched how Munkustrap had gotten severely injured just because he'd been too scared to accept Macavity's challenge. "Ah, but in the end you did fight for you friends and family", argued the hat. "And although you have talents that would match all four houses I think I'll put you in…GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat finally called the house out loud and Misto breathed out in relief, thankful that this was over. He took off the hat and handed it back to Professor McGonagall, before he turned to walk to the Gryffindor Table. He sat down next to Hermione, who gave him a timid smile. Misto smiled back at her, going back to his silent promise to try and be her friend. She obviously needed it.

His attention returned to the sorting when the hat called out: "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville, the boy who'd lost his toad, ran off still wearing the hat, and had to jog back under loud laughter to give it to MacDougal Morag. Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and Misto grimaced. "Tugger would so be trying to get at him now", stated Misto to himself. He heard something from his side and looked at Hermione. "Yes?" She went red and muttered: "Nothing." Misto looked at her a little longer, but accepted her decision and turned back to the sorting when the hat screamed: "SLYTHERIN!" It hadn't even touched Draco's head properly when he went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking quite pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left to be sorted by now.

"Moon"…, "Nott"… , "Parkinson"… , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"… ,then "Perks, Sally-Anne"… , and then, at last — "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Misto glared angrily at the rest of the hall. Harry was just a normal kid right now, no matter what title he had. Like with Misto himself the hat seemed to mention and show things to Harry the other wasn't particularly eager to know, but then it finally shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Misto felt himself relax. It would've been a shame if his newly built friendship with Harry had broken with him getting into another house. Once Harry reached the table Percy Weasley, who had a Prefect Badge on his robes, got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!", almost deafening the former tom. Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff they'd seen earlier, directly across Misto too.

"Congrats", said Misto with a grin. Harry smiled back, relief evident on his featuers. The ghost patted Harry's arm, causing the boy to shudder and Misto smirked. He'd accidently brushed the ghost to, it wasn't a pleasant feeling. Suddenly Harry grinned up at the High Table Misto followed his gaze, to find Hagrid smiled at Harry. Misto smiled as well, then caught sight of the headmaster.

Albus Dumbledore. His eyes held a familiar twinkle, the same twinkle Misto knew from Old Deuteronomy.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Again Misto focused back on the sorting, to see Dean Thomas walk up to the Gryffindor table. He was a black boy even taller than Ron probably. Now only two students were left to be sorted. Turpin Lisa became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Only a second after the hat sat atop Ron's head, it shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Misto clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to the glasses wearing boy. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry while Zabini Blaise was, a last, made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Misto saw how Harry looked down at his empty gold plate and frowned. The boy bit his lip to not laugh out loud, but sympathy rushed through him as well.

Misto himself had never been the biggest tom, but Harry was too small and skinny for his age. It couldn't be healthy. Suddenly the hall fell silent. Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. It probably is that. Old Deuteronomy looks the same when he greets us all every time he comes for a visit. Nothing makes him more happy than to see us all alright and well.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered, although some younger students looked slightly weirded out. Misto wasn't, but when you were one of the few cats that knew Rumpus Cat personall and had seen Skimble drunk, nothing weirded you out that fast anymore. Harry though looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" asked the boy Percy uncertainly.

Seems like that to me, thought Misto while he poured himself some water. He wasn't the greatest fan of pumpkin juice.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

"Way to change the subject", muttered Misto while he put all sorts of fish he could onto his plate. Hermione next to him seemed to have heard everything, since she giggled. Msito looked at her and gave her a small grin. Hermione looked back at him surprised, but then she smiled back slightly. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak and Ron stuffing his mouth with chicken. "Can't you —?", asked Harry. "I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

Ah, so this is the Nearly Headless Nick, though Misto while he chewed some salmon. He'd read about him in some book he'd found in the library. "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus Finnigan interrupted: "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Misto winced and quickly swallowed. He saw that Hermione was about take a bite from some sort of pie and held her back. She looked at him and he warned: "Wait till Sir Nicholas is done." Hermione titled her head, but nodded and both looked back the ghost. Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Misto felt how his stomach turned over, but he'd seen worse in his life. Ever saw a cat becoming road kill life? Now that was disgusting. Hermione gagged a little and, looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck. "Thanks for the warning", muttered Hermione. "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

Misto followed Sir Nicholas' gesture and looked over at the Slytherin table. There he saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Draco Malfoy who didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately and Misto, though he was curious too, decided to not push the matter any further and returned his attention to his meal. He exchanged a few more words with Hermione, but it was obvious she'd never really talked much about anything but school with anyone, so Misto let her be. She'd adjust sooner or later.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding… Misto helped himself to some chocolate and Stracciatella ice-cream. And there one should say again that chocolate wasn't anything for animals.

That didn't count for Jellicles, they only didn't get to have it very often. Most of the time when Munkustrap managed to bring some from his owners, he'd give it to the kittens. Jenny had once loudly argued that the tabby was spoiling not just his own daughter, but everyone else in that way, but Misto wasn't certain Munkustrap minded that.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus in between to bites of pie. "My dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages." Neville a squib?, asked Misto. That sounded so strange. "My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy."

"She was crying because he had magic and not because he was still alive", pressed Misto out angrily. His hand fisted around the spoon in it and again his fingertips felt strange. He glanced at them, to find blue-sparks dancing over them once more. Taking a deep breath, Misto tried to calm down, but once again made a mental note. This is going to be a long letter, thought the boy before he returned to his ice-cream.

Percy Weasley and Hermione near him were talking about lessons

"Ouch!" Harry's gasp caught Misto's attention and he looked at his friend. Harry clapped a hand to his fore-head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing", answered Harry and looked back at the Teachers Table. Misto followed his gaze, to see a man with greasy black hair and a man with turban. A jolt went through Misto when his magic reacted to the dark forces that surrounded the turban-wearing man and Misto frowned. Something about this man wasn't right. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" asked Harry Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Misto watched Snape and Quirrel for a while, having no idea who was who, but both had something evil on them. Yet the evil on the black-haired man was weaker, the good energies around him stronger.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent once more.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils." Ah, here is my explanation for going onto the grounds, thought Misto. "And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "So like Mungo and Teazer", mumbled Misto with a smile. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Yeah, because people listen to that", snorted one of the twins. Misto believed it was Fred, but he wasn't certain. Their magic was different, so he could sense how they were different, but it would take a while till he could put the names to the magical energies around them.

"Quidditch try-outs will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Misto raised an eyebrow and looked at Dumbledore. He seemed quite serious, so Misto was one of the few first-years that didn't laugh. "He's not serious?" muttered Harry to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Misto did notice that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

Really?, thought Misto excitedly and picked the tune for the first song at the night of the Jellicle Ball. And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Teach us something please

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff

For now they're bare and full of air

Dead flies and bits of fluff

So teach us things worth knowing

Bring back what we've forgot

Just do your best, we'll do the rest

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times, Misto feeling outright delighted. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here!" Ha, he has no idea how true that statement is, thought Misto with a grin. "And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Misto felt worn out by now. Not only had it been a long day and he was full to the brim from all the great food, but though his actual magic returned to him, getting used to the steady pressure of the magic the castle itself displayed took quite some energy. He was too sleepy even to care much that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet. Then they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them. A cold feeling hit Misto and he gave a quiet groan. Another ghost. As Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him." "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself." A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?", threatened Percy.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy angrily, although Misto wasn't sure this was the right way to handle this guy. Peeves just stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. Misto managed to react in time to catch one, but the other still hit the toad-boy.

"Thanks", said Neville while he rubbed his head.

Misto gave a smile and a nod and they moved on. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects." Does he think just because he's Prefect everyone will listen to him?, wondered Misto with narrowed eyes. That was a little too much like Macavity for his liking, he just hoped Percy wouldn't make the same mistakes the ginger tabby made. "Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Misto smiled. He liked this place. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: six four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up.

Too tired to talk much, the six boys pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed. Misto managed to stay awake long enough to slide a bit of chicken he'd snuck from the feast into Quaxo's cage, who hooted softly in appreciation, yet, no matter how tired Misto was, he couldn't fell asleep.

Ten minutes after everyone else fell asleep, he threw his covers off and walked up to a window and opened it. Quaxo hooted softly again and with a soft smile, Misto opened the cage and got Quaxo out. The black snowy owl took perch on Misto's shoulder when the boy settle down on the window sill. The boy looked up at the shimmering stars and smiled when a soft breeze rushed past him.

Before he knew what he did, a song came to mind and he started to sing.

"Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today"

"Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace"

"You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will be as one"

"Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world"

"You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one"

"That's a rather nice song." Misto spun around and Quaxo flew up to avoid getting thrown off. Harry sat awake in his bad and smiled at him, although his green eyes looked troubled.

"Why aren't you sleeping?", asked Misto and walked up to his.

Harry shrugged and muttered: "Nightmare, you?"

"I just couldn't sleep yet", answered Misto while he sat down on Harry's bed. "Wanna talk about it?" Harry lowered his eyes in thought, then shook his head. "No thanks." His voice sounded chocked and Misto felt panic rising in him. "Harry? Harry what's wrong?" At this Harry burst out in tears. Misto hugged him and after a while Harry whispered: "Sorry…it's just…no one ever cared if I had nightmares before. It…makes me wish for my parents even more."

Misto frowned and patted Harry's back softly, before he advised: "Go back to sleep Harry. My Mom always says, tomorrow the world might look brighter."

Harry lay down, but muttered: "Not sure if I can sleep now."

"Want me to sing again?"

"I'm a little old for a song that helps me fall asleep", argued Harry.

Misto almost purred in amusement, but stopped in time and argued: "You're never too old for that. When you need comfort, you need it and out." Harry looked at him, then whispered: "I never had siblings Misto, only my cousin Dudley and…now I really start to wish you could be my brother. Or Ron, or any of his brothers. I just feel so alone right now."

"You miss your parents", concluded Misto. Harry nodded and Misto stood up, to sit down a little closer to Harry. "Let me sing you a song Harry", asked Misto. "I can prove to you that you're parents are still with you…

"Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala"

"Night and the spirit of life calling mamela
And a voice just the fear of a child answers mamela"

"Ubu khosi bo khokho
We ndodana ye sizwe sonke"

"Wait, there's no mountain too great
Hear the words and have faith
Have faith"

"They live in you
They live in me
They watch here over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
They live in you"

"They live in you
They live in me
They watch here over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
They live in you"

"They live in you
They live in you"

"So, wait, there's no mountain too great
Hear the words and have faith
Have faith"

"They live in you
They live in me
They watch here over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
They live in you"

"They live in you
They live in me
They watch here over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
They live in you"

"They live in you
They live in you
They live in you
They live in you"

Misto opened his eyes, which he had closed during the song. He'd heard Asparagus and Skimble sing that song a day after Tumble and Pouncival had lost their brother. Yes, the two troublemakers used to be three. Now the boy looked down at Harry, to smile. He'd fallen asleep again, looking far more relaxed than before. Misto got up slowly and Quaxo settled on his shoulder again.

"Good Night to you too Quaxo", whispered Misto and scratched the owl's brow. Quaxo hooted in approval and didn't make any ruckus when Misto put him back into his cage. With a yawn the boy crept into his bed again and pulled the blankets over him.

Soon he was fast asleep, dreaming of happy days in the Junkyard, where he and Vic would fool around with the other kittens.