King's Cross Station, everyone has arrived to head off to Hogwarts. Briefly, Harry and Sirius withdrew to a secluded room in order to converse before the farewells. The small group of students is readying to board the Hogwarts Express located beyond the magical barrier of platform 9&3/4. Everything is a little hectic and crowded. Regardless of previous excursions to the school for checkups, the last time Merlin did so was in 1811 and he has not yet ridden the train. Their group featuring: Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Mad eye, Fred and George, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Merlin himself have to make do with the mass number of students surrounding them. There must amount to twelve hundred students total this year, the largest student body to date.
"Well, this is it," says Mrs. Weasley to all of the children. "Stay safe and keep out of trouble." With that, she pulls everyone in for a goodbye hug, even Merlin. Everyone walks towards the train as she waved to them until they were out of view.
"Ron and I are located in the Prefect compartment but we will catch back up with you guys once we arrive," Hermione interjects and pulls Ron along down the aisle towards it.
Harry ends up sharing a compartment with Ginny, Neville, and a rather peculiar Ravenclaw girl named Luna Lovegood. She spent much of her time reading over a newspaper derived from the 'Quibbler" as she calls it. Apparently, her dad runs the print.
Merlin ended up sharing a compartment with Fred and George and a friend of their named Lee Jordan. "Hi I'm Lee," he said and stuck his name out to Merlin.
"Martin." Though he didn't particularly include himself in their conversations, they were amusing and managed to help the time pass quickly.
Eventually, the train arrived at Hogsmeade and the students made their exits. Remembering what Dumbledore had said, Merlin made his way to the end of the platform where a witch with close-cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin stood waiting to take the first year students by boat. Even though Merlin was jumping strait to his fifth year, traditions were to be upheld and he is supposed to get sorted with the rest of them.
"First years this way please!" She calls out to all the students. When Merlin approaches her she raises and eyebrow. "First years only."
"Yes," Merlin says, "I'm Martin, a transfer student. Dumbledore told me I was to accompany you towards the castle to be sorted."
"Very well then young man, if you would please follow me," and she stalks off with everyone in tow towards the boats where they finish their journey to the castle.
"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. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.
"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. 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 smart yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes linger to Merlin for a brief moment before she turns her back to them. "I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." And she left.
Maybe five minutes passed by while they were waiting, Merlin lost count. Most of the time there he spent trying to imagine all of the first years not staring at him. It was understandable why they would; he practically towered over there tiny frames. But regardless, if all his years have taught him anything is to never be the center of attention. It always creates far too much of a risk.
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned.