Disclaimer: The following characters, settings and referenced events are, and always will be, the property of J K Rowling.

– CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX –

Full Circle

'Firs' years this way,' a loud voice bellowed.

Harry squinted through the steam along the platform and felt his jaw drop as he made out the gigantic shape of a man swinging a lantern. His dad had told him about Rubeus Hagrid, but he never quite believed him; he did run a joke shop, after all. As he came to a shocked standstill, someone bumped into the back of him.

'Come on Harry, what did you stop for? We're being called – Whoa!' James stared, stunned, at Hagrid.

Harry glanced around and spotted the round face and red hair of his cousin, who had also stopped to stare wide-eyed at the gamekeeper.

Harry, James and Godric exchanged excited looks. This was going to be so much fun.

They scurried after the other first years, as Hagrid led them down a steep, narrow path to the edge of a great black lake; on the far side a large castle balanced on to of a high mountain. In front of them, a fleet of small boats were lined up before the shore, small waves lapping against their sides.

'No more'n four to a boat!' Hagrid called as he settled himself into one of the boats, leaving no room for anyone else.

By the time Harry, James and Godric reached the water's edge, all but two of the boats had been filled. As Godric shrugged and climbed into a boat with a small, dark boy and two girls, Harry and James got into the other, looking curiously at the two thin boys already perched on its seats.

One of them had sad green eyes and a long neck, which he craned around, trying to see everything at once. The other had slightly mean-looking eyes and white-blond pudding-basin hair, and was eyeing Harry and James sourly.

As the boats set off across the lake on Hagrid's command, the first boy looked around long enough to say, 'Hi, I'm Derek Dursley and this is Mordy Malfoy. Isn't all this something else?'

Harry sat up straighter. Dursley and Malfoy? He definitely knew those two names.

Dursley straightened around in his seat. 'Did you two know you were wizards?'

Harry and James exchanged bemused glances. 'Well, yeah.'

'I didn't know,' Dursley continued sadly. 'We're from Muggle families,' (he pointed at Malfoy), 'we live near each other. My dad did everything he could to stop me knowing – he burnt all my Hogwarts letters and beat me like crazy whenever I did anything –' his voice dropped to a whisper, '– freakish. He disowned me the day Mrs Figg took me to Diagon Alley; won't have me back home. I don't know what I'm going to do now.' He sighed morosely.

Malfoy was eyeing Dursley as if he was a piece of green slime. 'Speak for yourself, Derek,' he sneered. 'I come from a long line of some of the finest wizards –'

'Rubbish, Malfoy!' Harry had both hands on his hips. 'Your mum is dead, your dad's in Azkaban, and you were sent to live with a Squib when you were six!'

Malfoy's face flushed.

'What's a Squib?' Derek wanted to know.

'A non-magic person born into a wizarding family; the opposite of what you are,' James explained, not taking his eyes off Harry or Malfoy.

'How would you know anything about me?' Malfoy glanced at Harry.

'My Auntie Ginny told me; she's the one who put your dad back in prison. How long had he been out for? Three weeks, wasn't it? Really learnt his lesson, didn't he. And then my granddad put you with that Squib when your mum blew herself up.'

Derek's eyes grew large. 'Blew herself up?'

'Yeah. She was a really dumb witch – did lousy at school – but she kept trying to show off, pretending she was clever, and one day she went too far.'

'You take that back!' hissed Malfoy, fixing Harry with a dangerous glare.

'Oh, like I'm really scared of you!' The last word squeaked through the air as Malfoy lunged at Harry, overbalancing the boat, and all four of them fell into the icy-cold water.

Harry struggled to the surface and grabbed onto the upturned boat. He saw all the students staring in their direction; several knelt up to get a better look. Hagrid was standing in his boat, balanced perfectly as it turned towards them.

Looking around wildly, Harry saw both James and Derek break the surface and reach out to hold onto the boat, but there was no sign of Malfoy. Heart pumping with panic, he squinted across the dark water until he saw it – a small cluster of bubbles popping a few yards away. Swimming over to the spot, ignoring Hagrid's shout of 'Oy, you!', Harry took a deep breath and dived into the black depths.

Straining his eyes, he caught a faint glimpse of something pale floating like weeds. Malfoy's hair. Harry kicked deeper; but when he reached Malfoy, he found that a sickly-green creature with sharp horns was gripping his ankle with long spindly fingers and dragging Malfoy deeper. A Grindylow. Harry had seen one at James's house; his dad had shown it to them.

Reaching down, he grabbed Malfoy's leg to hold himself steady then, grasping each of the Grindylow's fingers in turn, he snapped them until he felt the bones crumple like brittle twigs. As the Grindylow scuttled off with a green-toothed grimace, Harry grabbed Malfoy around the chest and kicked for the surface.

They were about halfway up (Harry's vision was starting to blur from lack of air), when something large and strong smoothly reached around the pair of them and pulled them against itself. Harry thought it was Hagrid rescuing them, then he was staring into the largest eye he had ever seen.

Two very large bubbles rushed towards the surface as both boys let out silent yells, wasting their remaining oxygen; then they were being pushed back into the now-righted boat to land beside Derek, whose teeth were chattering noisily, and James, who was hanging over the side of the boat, trying to get a better look at the tentacle as it slid back beneath the surface.

'What was that?' he asked in amazement as the boat drifted under a curtain of ivy in the cliff face, through a dark tunnel and finally bumped up to a small underground harbour. All the other first years were gathered together in a crowd (several girls were crying), being overseen by a tall wizard with dark robes and curtains of greasy black hair, liberally streaked with grey, framing his sallow, hook-nosed face.

As Hagrid stepped out of his own boat, Godric rushed forwards, a look of sheer relief on his face as he rubbed the ancient talisman their Egyptian cousins had sent him.

'We thought you'd all drowned!' he exclaimed, as the hook-nosed man shrugged out of his cloak and handed it to Malfoy, sheer loathing darkening his features as his eyes fell on Harry.

When Malfoy promptly passed the dry cloak to Harry, the teacher's expression froze.

'It's all righ', Professor Snape,' Hagrid explained. ''Magine he's just grateful, that's all. After all, Harry here jus' saved young Mr Malfoy's life.' He beamed down at Harry. 'But it's much too cold to go inter details out here; let's ge' the little tykes inside. After yeh Professor.' And he held his arms wide, herding everyone, including a sour-faced Professor Snape, up a passageway in the rock, across smooth, damp grass, and up a flight of stone steps to the castle's huge, oak front doors.

Once inside (everyone's jaws dropped at the sight of the Entrance Hall), Professor Snape showed them into a small, empty chamber opposite another pair of doors, behind which could be heard the drone of hundreds of voices.

After Snape closed the door on them with a command of 'Wait here', Harry, James and Derek huddled close together so they could wrap the warm cloak around them. Harry held out a corner and looked expectantly at Malfoy who, with a muttered, 'Thanks – for everything,' allowed himself to be pulled into the cloak's embrace.

All the first years were looking at them curiously.

'So what exactly did happen?' Godric wanted to know, eyeing Malfoy warily.

'Oh, I was being stupid,' Harry quickly replied (James's jaw started to drop but Harry stomped on his foot). 'I thought I saw something moving in the water and tried to get a better look and tipped the boat over.'

'And Hagrid rescued you?'

'He rescued us,' James pointed to Derek and himself, 'but they were pushed back into the boat by this really long arm.'

'That would be the giant squid,' a voice behind them commented.

Several first years screamed as a number of ghosts emerged through the back wall.

'Hi, Uncle George.' Harry grinned up at the ghost who had addressed them.

Jaws dropped around him. 'Uncle George?'

The ghost performed an elaborate bow. 'Only to these three.' He waved a transparent hand at Harry, James and Godric. 'You may call me Joking George. And this –' he began indicating the other ghosts who were all eyeing the first years with interest, '– is the Fat Friar,' (a jolly monk beamed at them), 'Nearly Headless Nick,' (a ghost whose head was wobbling precariously on top of his ruff sputtered 'I would prefer –')

'Introductions will have to wait until later, Weasley,' Professor Snape's cold voice (and gaze) were back. 'The Sorting is about to take place.'

Joking George responded by drifting straight through Snape, making the professor gasp loudly, as though he had been plunged into ice, and throw George a look which, had he not been dead already, would have killed him.

'This way!' Snape's lips barely moved as he held the door open for them. They followed him across the Entrance Hall, through the large doors, and into a magnificent banquet hall. Along its length stretched four tables seating the rest of the students; above them it looked as though the ceiling opened onto the night sky.

Snape led them between the tables to the far end of the hall where a fifth table seated the teachers. Two of the teachers – one with a round face and dark hair and the other with numerous pale scars stretching across his face – waved at Harry, James and Godric, who waved back.

'Do you know them?' asked Derek.

The boys nodded.

'The younger one is my dad – teaches Herbology,' whispered Godric.

'And the grey-haired one is my father,' added James.

All the first years were now goggling at them.

'Your uncle's a ghost and your dads are teachers? Wow!' exclaimed the dark boy who had shared Godric's boat.

'What does your dad teach?' Derek asked James.

'Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'Is that how he got those scars?' A blonde girl was standing on tiptoe to get a better look.

'No, he used to be a werewolf,' James replied indifferently; but before any of the students could react to this news, Professor Snape had placed a worn, patched hat upon a three-legged stool in front of them.

The muttering throughout the hall died down and everyone stared at the hat expectantly. After a moment, a small rip near its brim opened, and the hat began to sing.

Oh, t'was a time, when days were dark,

And those of magic yen

Were persecuted, one and all

By superstitious men.

So formed a group of four great friends

Whose powers were the best

Who knew just how to help their kind

And hide them from the rest.'

And so it was that it began,

A school of great renown,

And within Hogwarts' mighty walls

From that day could be found

Four Houses which all stood as one,

Though they valued different gifts,

And together they did teach their young

Until there grew a rift,

For one of them begrudged the fact

Not all of them were pure,

And so a dark disease did spread

For which there was no cure.

For Slytherin did plant in me

A need to separate

Those of purest blood and thus

Encourage them to hate

All those whose families had not

Descended from the start;

And from that day, with Snakey's help,

All four groups stood apart.

But then there came such evil,

It seemed our world would lose the fight,

For none could vanquish You-Know-Who

Until there shone a light.

For one was born whose fate it was

To rid us of this rotter

The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One,

The wizard Harry Potter.

For Potter did possess a gift

Which, of all stood above,

And You-Know-Who could not fight off

This greatest gift called Love.

So when, at last, they came to blows

In Hogwarts' greatest hall,

The founders' love and strength destroyed

This foe once and for all.

Old Slytherin did crumble

For his line had now died out,

Then Gryffindor stepped forward

And gave a mighty shout.

'For nigh on a millennium

Four pillars held this school,

And thus it shall continue

Though with a change of rule.

Whilst once the founders numbered four,

We now are down to three,

For one did show, through his own blood,

No founding worth hath he.

And so with the consensus

Of my fellow founders, fair,

We stand as one once more

And henceforth, deem from this day there

Shall be a new House made at Hogwarts

Which shall never fall,

For those valued by this House shall hold

Good Greatness above all.

So here at Hogwarts school

Which has since that day stood so strong,

Just place me on your head

That I may see where you belong.

It could be that your values mirror

Brave old Gryffindor,

Hardworking, loyal Hufflepuff,

Or brainy Ravenclaw,

Or your head may show that you'll do best

In Hogwarts, newest House

For, unlike once-were Slytherins,

You'll never be a louse.

So put me on, don't be afraid,

I'll see the worth within,

Though split, you'll stand together:

Let the Sorting now begin.

Loud applause filled the Great Hall as the hat fell silent once more, although the tear retained something of a smirk about it.

Professor Snape sneered down at the first years as he unrolled a length of parchment.

'I shall call each of you, in turn, to come forwards, sit on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat upon your head. Once you have been Sorted into your House, you will join your fellow housemates at your house table quietly and with decorum.'

A white-haired witch sitting at the centre of the teachers' table rolled her eyes as several snickers broke out across the hall. Snape glared at the students with a very black look.

He waited until silence rang through the Hall. 'Whilst you are here at this school, you will represent your house, hence any rule-breaking will lose your house points, whilst any exceptional feats shall see points awarded to whichever house you are chosen for. At the completion of the school year, the House with the most points shall be awarded the House Cup. Do you understand?'

A few of the first years managed very small, frightened nods, while most of them just stared up at him wide-eyed, their mouths slightly open with fear.

Snape's dark eyes glittered. Straightening the parchment, he called, 'Aberversy, Polly!'

The blonde girl who had asked abut James's father's scars gave a start, and hurried forwards to place the Hat on her head. Three seconds later, the Hat shouted, 'Hufflepuff!' and Polly Aberversy ran to the table on the right, whose students were cheering loudly.

As 'Brocklehurst, Belinda!' stepped forwards to take her turn, James whispered to Derek, 'Did your father really beat you?'

'Mmm,' Derek nodded, closely watching the Sorting. 'But it never hurt though, not physically anyway.'

James blinked. 'Why not?'

'Because my mum put a charm on him years ago to stop him being a gross nasty bully,' Harry cut in.

'Your mum cursed him and made him hate magic?' Derek's expression started to darken.

'Your grandparents taught him to hate magic, and Mum didn't curse him,' Harry's hands were on his hips again, 'she did him a favour. Have you seen photographs of him when he was younger?' Derek nodded, suddenly looking embarrassed. 'Well, if it hadn't been for Mum, he would have been dead of a heart attack at twenty, and you wouldn't exist for him to disown!'

Derek's green eyes blinked rapidly, but he was unable to reply because Snape called 'Dursley, Derek!'

The Sorting Hat sat on Derek's head for over a minute before it made up its mind (Hufflepuff!). Derek looked decidedly relieved as he trotted off to the Hufflepuff table.

Harry was surprised. From everything he had heard about the Dursley males, he wouldn't have thought Derek would have been the right sort of material for Hufflepuff; but then again, knowing the Dursleys' attitude to anything remotely non-Muggle, Derek's father probably treated his son as much like a slave as his grandparents had treated their nephew. So Derek would be quite at home with a bit of hard work.

He was snapped out of his reverie by Godric's voice.

'What's gonna happen if we don't get put in the same house?'

'What do you mean, "What's gonna happen"?' asked Harry, as Andrew Kensington took a seat at the Ravenclaw table. 'We'll still be best mates.'

'Yeah,' said James as Snape's lip curled (Longbottom, Godric!). 'You heard the Hat – "though split, you'll stand together",' he whispered loudly after Godric as he took his turn on the stool.

'Gryffindor!' shouted the Hat immediately.

James glanced at Harry as he unwound himself from Snape's cloak. 'Still mates?' he whispered.

'Still mates,' Harry whispered back as Snape called 'Lupin, James!'

Harry held his breath.

'Ravenclaw!'

As James sat down next to his older brother, Sirius, at the Ravenclaw table (grinning at his father), Harry felt a hand take hold of his and squeeze. He looked up into Malfoy's pale, frightened eyes.

Harry squeezed the hand back. 'Good luck!' he whispered as Snape called, 'Malfoy, Mordred!'

Quite suddenly, Harry's eyes watered as he tried to suppress a sneeze, but in vain. Just as the Hat called out the name of Malfoy's house, Harry gave three loud sneezes, earning a severe glare from Snape as he wiped his nose on the cloak.

As Malfoy ran over to the fourth table, Harry realised it wouldn't really matter which house he was put in – he would have a friend in the same house. Malfoy's attitude had changed drastically after Harry had rescued him from the Grindylow (he doubted whether Malfoy's father would have looked on him as a friend); and Dursley – he seemed to have been raised to believe that magic was evil, but rather than changing him, all his father had done was show him how mean and uncaring he could be towards his own son. Harry felt sure that, once Derek settled in, he would enjoy being part of the wizarding world. Especially if he had friends to help him! He would have to talk to James and Godric about it.

Starting to feel very cold and hungry, Harry tried not to fidget as the Hat worked its way through 'Opresey', 'Pendrake', 'Tansy' and 'Walcott'.

Finally, Snape's sneering voice said, 'Weasley, Harry!' and Harry dropped Snape's cloak in the small puddle at his feet and stepped determinedly to take his place on the stool. Snape placed the Sorting Hat on his head, but it slipped down until it covered his eyes. A small voice suddenly spoke right next to his ear.

'Oh.' It sounded intrigued. 'I was wondering when I would get to meet you; I've heard a lot about you. Mmm, yes; I see what they mean – you come from very good wizarding stock; quite a good bit of talent, very fine mind, and not afraid to stand up for what is right! Yes, indeed! It wouldn't have been right to leave him to a dark fate, would it?'

Harry's heart jumped. 'You know about that?' he whispered.

'Yes,' the Hat whispered back, with a small chuckle. 'It's all here in your head. I can see you being great one day, if you keep treading the path you've started upon. Yes, there is a lot of good greatness in you, young man. Just like –

'Potter!' The last word was shouted to the assembly.

Harry made his way over to the Potter table (waving at Uncle Neville and Remus, and grinning at his father's twin hanging upside down above the other Potter students), and sat down next to Mordy. As he gazed across at the other tables and made eye contact with James, Godric and Derek, Harry gave a contented sigh and realised he was right where he belonged.

x

Henrietta Dursley suppressed a shudder as she threw the last of Derek's things into the bin. She had had no idea that her husband had been cursed by evil witches and wizards years ago. He had managed to keep that part of himself very well hidden. She hadn't found out until their son (no, she had to stop thinking of him as that) had received a strange letter, telling him that he was a wizard and he had been accepted at a school called Hogwarts.

His father had been furious. That was when it had all come out about what Dudley's cousin and his friends had gotten up to when he was a boy. He had said there was no way he was having one of those things in his family and had thrown Derek out of the house. Now, nobody was allowed to mention him any more.

Henrietta thought of her own childhood. Unknown to her husband, this was not her first brush with England's secret wizarding world. She had had a cousin (twice removed), who had also gone to that school. They had always pretended that particular branch of the family had not existed. The parents had been dentists (as if that hadn't made them strange to start with), and their daughter had been downright unnatural. It didn't matter how hard any of them worked at school, none of them could ever measure up to that one. Then, when Henrietta's mother's cousin had started telling everybody that her daughter was a witch (like she was proud of it or something), Henrietta had finally realised that the little show-off was nothing more than a filthy cheat, an embarrassment to the whole family. Luckily, her mother had agreed and, since she had been responsible for organising get-togethers, the cousins had stopped being invited to family gatherings. Henrietta hadn't heard of them in years. When she had met Dudley, she had made certain he didn't find out about the Grangers.

Now it was happening all over again. She had worked so hard to keep her life and home perfect, though there had been odd moments, when Derek was little, which had frightened her. Dudley had started to display some of his intolerance of that stuff by punishing his son most severely, almost as if he thought he could somehow beat it out of him, but Henrietta could have told him, had she realised that it was magic which Derek had been doing, that it wouldn't work.

When the letter had arrived, she had been so afraid that Dudley would blame her, but then she discovered that Dudley's cousin (more closely related to him than Hermione had been to her) had been a wizard and the fear had eased a little. Perhaps they were both to blame. Not that there was much point really, blaming themselves. They weren't the ones who had those genes. It had been a throwback to the bad parts of both their families.

As she closed the lid on the dustbin, Henrietta noticed old Mrs Next Door peering over the fence. She resisted the urge to scurry back inside like a frightened squirrel. It would never do to have the neighbours thinking there was something not quite right about the perfectly normal life she and her husband had worked so hard to build up.

Henrietta glanced around the garden of the house Dudley had inherited from his parents, every flower positioned just right and tended to perfection. A frizzy-looking sparrow, perched on a rose bush, watched her intently; too intently for a normal sparrow. It wouldn't do. Henrietta suppressed another shudder as she shooed it away. Nothing like that was allowed in her garden. As she turned to go back inside, she noticed old Mrs Next Door also heading in, clearly disappointed that she hadn't learnt any juicy gossip about her very boring neighbours. They were the last people to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, indeed.