Thank you for the reviews. They really make my day, especially as I don't write HP fiction often.
James stared at his plate with disdain as the food magically appeared in front of them. Lucy's mouth dropped open as she saw the food and then she smiled, helping herself. James followed suit after a minute and then turned around to look at the Gryffindor table. Fred was in conversation with an oriental first year. He didn't even see James looking. Lucky git, James thought ruefully. All the while he was eating, he was thinking of the letter he had to write to his parents. He would go up to the owlery as soon as possible to send it. No matter how unhappy he was with the choice of his house, it would be worse if they heard it from someone else.
"Cheer up," Lucy said. "What's the matter?"
"All four of my grandparents were in Gryffindor. My parents too. I'm supposed to tell them I'm not? I have no idea what they'll say," James said honestly. "My dad's maybe the best remembered Gryffindor there is since Godric Gryffindor himself."
"Yeah, right," Lucy said rolling her eyes in disbelief.
"He's not lying," someone said from across the table. They both turned and saw a black boy listening to their conversation. "Jason Boyd," he added.
"Well," Lucy said, her thought interrupted. "You're not your dad though."
"Apparently." James pushed his plate away.
"Oh come on, we're not that bad," Jason said. "Maybe it's a good thing you're away from all that family history. You'll be able to do things your father never did. Visit a part of the castle he never did."
"Maybe you're right," James said. "I'm just being… stupid." He sighed and pulled the potatoes back in front of him. He was silent as he ate, listening to Jason and Lucy start chatting. They were talking about subjects they wanted to start.
"Mum says I'll be good at charms," Jason said. "When I was younger I was constantly making things change colour and stuff like that."
"Your mum's a witch?" Lucy asked.
"Yeah. Dads not got any magic in him though. He has no idea about anything with magic. Didn't believe my mum was a witch until I was three and he found me in the locked basement."
"Wow," Lucy said.
"What gave it away that you were a witch?" Jason asked. "You said you were muggle born?"
"Yeah," she said. "My dad died when I was seven. And I turned everything in the house black. My mother thought I'd gone crazy."
"I bet," James said. "Sorry. About your father."
"Doesn't matter," she said with a shrug, and he knew that she didn't want to talk about it. "What about potions? Which one teaches that?"
"I don't know," Jason said looking up at the staff table. "Maybe the thin tall man on the end?"
"No, that's Neville Longbottom," James said. "Herbology. He's a friend of my parents."
"Oh," Lucy said. "Not to sound thick, but what's Herbology?"
"Magical plants," James said. "Down in the greenhouses in the grounds."
Before anything further could be said the food on the plates vanished to be replaced with desserts. James, even when he was not looking forward to telling his parents of his house placement couldn't fail to be impressed. Apple pies, blocks of ice cream, treacle pudding, rhubarb crumble, strawberry meringues, tarts and trifles in every flavour imaginable. It was delicious. By the time dinner was finished, James felt both full and happy. He turned to the top table and saw Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress, addressing the students. She looked the same as she ever did, and James knew that she would never leave this school as long as she breathed, no matter how long she'd been here already.
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," she said, a smile on her thin lips. "So, some notices for the new students. As always, the forest is out of bounds, because there is a reason it is forbidden. It's a dangerous place to be. Quidditch trials for the house teams will begin on the second Saturday of term. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that there is to be no magic in the corridors or between lessons. First years, if you'd like to follow your prefects to your house common rooms, I will say goodnight. Have a good term." There was a rush of noise and everyone got up to go to their dormitories.
James and Lucy looked around for a prefect and found a tall thin red haired girl calling the first years towards her. They walked towards her, through the jabbering noise and then she led them out of the hall. All of the students were silent, following her with a mixture of awe and respect as they went through the large entrance hall. The unnamed prefect led them down a short flight of stairs to the right, went down a long thin and dark corridor and then stopped at what appeared to be a dead end. The wall was blank, but beneath it were a dozen or so wooden barrels, stacked precariously. The prefect retrieved her wand from her robe and then told them to gather around. She tapped the barrel in the centre very specifically, and told them to remember the rhythm.
Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Then five more taps with her wand and the barrel yawned as if waking from a deep sleep. A crack opened in the wood to form a mouth, and the barrel was actually yawning.
"Password?" he asked, his voice sounding ancient and tired.
"Tita Morgis," the prefect said. Then, suddenly all of the barrels moved of their own accord, revealing the entrance to a large tunnel. The prefect hunched over slightly to walk through it but the first years didn't need to. They trailed after her and sure enough, soon they were standing in a circular room, which must be their common room. It was very cosy. There were two fires roaring at each end of the room, crackling delightfully. Around one, several grey vines of an unknown plant were curling around the mantelpiece, clearly the plant liked the warmth. Around the top of the room were circular windows, letting the moonlight shine in. There were more chairs and sofas in yellow and black than James could count and it looked very comfortable. A portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, smiling at the new additions to her house, hung high on the wall between two more doors, both round.
"The door on the right is to the girls dormitories, the left is the boys."
"I thought we'd be in a tower," one of the girls moaned.
"One day you'll be grateful you're near the kitchens," the prefect replied knowingly.
"When you're late for class and don't have to miss breakfast. Gryffindors are about half a mile away from the great hall."
The girls and boys split off from one another and James led the boys through the bricked tunnel. Every few yards there was a door with a sign on. Seventh years, sixth year, fifth and so on. The first years were at the very end of the tunnel and James opened the door to find seven four poster beds in a large and spacious room. One wall wasn't a wall at all. It was completely made out of glass, showing a view of the grounds and the forbidden forest. From the light thrown out by the castle James could even see Hagrid's house from here, one window lit up.
A loud hoot brought him back and he saw, sitting on his bed was Farley. "You know I have a letter to write don't you?" James said, stroking the owl's head gently. "Hang on, let me find my parchment and quill." James rummaged in his trunk and soon he'd written a short letter. He tied it to Farley's leg, and then opened a small portion of the grand window. The owl hooted before taking off into the night. James closed the window against the cold night chill and he fell into bed. Much to his surprise, he fell asleep almost instantly.