Stories touch us. They change us. They seep through our minds and become part of our selves. J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. If you enjoy Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling owns a piece of your soul.

('Salazurine' is vaguely Basque. It should be written with an accent above the n, and pronounced 'Salazurinye', but my keyboard can't handle that.)

CHAPTER NINE

''Honeydukes claims that their candies are enchanted so that children can't become ill from over-indulging. Honeydukes underestimates the gorging capacity of an excited young child on their way to Hogwarts.''

Some of the Prefects and Head Students laughed at that. A few looked embarrassed. They'd all been First Years themselves.

Arrival, Sorting, Welcoming Feast... It must be a load of fun if you're eleven years old. Any older and it's just a load of work. The day starts with a meeting between staff and the more responsible senior students - Head Girls, Head Boys, Prefects, and a handful of younger students selected by the senior staff. Meanwhile the House-Elf army invades the student dormitories, sweeping, clearing away dust-covers, airing out the rooms, and generally getting rid of that musty unused air.

With the meeting done the Groundskeeper and Caretaker transport the older kids to King's Cross. Senior teaching staff leave via Disapparation or Floo Network at the same time. Some students simply won't be able to get to King's Cross on their own, for any number of reasons. The teachers will escort them to the station to meet the rest of the students.

Junior staff stay behind to help with preparing the Welcoming Feast. No matter how much work a House-Elf can do, or how many times they've done this before, something will always come up. At the very least, Peeves will try to disrupt things in the kitchen under the Great Hall. This year the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick almost came to blows after the Baron threw a tantrum at the Grey Sisters.

Galilea and Mr. Svensen had arranged for will-o'-the-wisps in the Great Hall rather than candles. ''I've been called many uncomplimentary things, Geoffrey, but never a sadist.''

I'd asked Galilea on a date as soon as Rita had left. On top of everything else I had to arrange reservations and a car rental for Saturday. By owl.

I found Sister Shibley crying in the chapel, still upset after being yelled at by the Bloody Baron. I calmed her down and resolved to learn how to kick a ghost's ass.

While Professor Theobrosan reminded the local merpeople that Hogwarts' students were not edible, Professor Binns and I had a last minute argument over student access to certain books. I won, which meant that my Third Years did not have to go digging through the library's restricted books section for Uses Of Evisceration Curses During Famous Wizarding Duels. No one is going to mess with my course syllabus at the last minute, undead or not.

I went a little overboard planning Saturday's date. The Gringotts' services department filtered my owl mail through to the restaurant and car rental agency. Galilea hadn't been out on a date in nearly two years, and hadn't been out in Muggle London in nearly two decades. I rented a high-end car and booked reservations at an expensive place with great reviews.

Later in the day I helped Rubeus hitch up the Thestrals. And by 'helped' I mean held stuff and passed it to him when he asked. I know almost nothing about any animal other than polar bears and seals. Thestrals are amazing creatures though, and I said so to Rubeus.

''Yeah. Beautiful, ain't they? So, ye've heard about what it means if you can see 'em?''

''I've seen lots of people die. What did you expect, when you summoned someone with no close personal ties?''

''Fair enough. Hand me th' breechin' tackle.''

Some of the staff went down to Hogsmeade Station to help round up kids. First Years would arrive by boat, in a tradition that dated back to the age of Hogwarts as fortress. Older students would be brought in by Thestral-drawn carriages, in a tradition dating back to a former member of the Board of Governors with a morbid fear of the giant squid eating her children.

Professors Theobrosan and Fairbairn, Neville, and I stayed behind to keep an eye on things. Neville grinned at me. ''Got your lucky underpants, Geoffrey?''

''I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of anti-Hex Shield-Charmed boxers. Furthermore, my employer instructs me to remind people that a man of my heritage qualifies as a true Scotsman, and is entitled to dress as such if he so chooses.''

Set up for a formal, the Great Hall is a spectacular sight. Tonight the sky was dark, too heavily clouded to show moon or stars, but the will o' the wisps darting above the tables cast a warm amber light over the tables. The goblin-gold place settings shone like harvest moons. Newly-woven House Banners floated above the tables, the ancient ones having been burnt in the Battle of Hogwarts.

I felt a little odd, looking at the writhing green and silver banner of 'my' House. Salazar of Salazurine hadn't held strong feelings one way or the other about Muggles with the Sight. It had been Muggle-born wizards and witches he didn't trust, and given what Bagshot said about 10th Century England I wouldn't have trusted those bastards either. But he certainly wouldn't have taken me as a student. And the Purebloods who favoured that House would have been horrified to hear that I'd been Sorted to it.

Rubeus claimed that there had never been a wizard or witch who went Dark that hadn't been from Slytherin House. Never mind the fact that he personally knew three from Gryffindor. Despite the best efforts of Minerva McGonagall and Galilea Grimward, Slytherin remained the House of Ill-Repute.

If ever there was a house divided against itself, it was the Wizarding World.

The staff returned first, Galilea carrying the Hat and an old stool that she placed in front of the staff tables. Junior staff such as myself, Farnsworth, Burke, Rubeus, Svensen, and Lestrange would sit at the rear table. Senior staff would sit at the front table, where the new students could get an eyeful.

Speaking of eyefuls - Despite or maybe because of what Rita had said, Galilea wore perfectly respectable formal robes in peach and cream. Respectable, but very edible.

The return of the older students distracted me from thoughts of Saturday and dessert. They lined up in their places, still whispering amongst themselves as they caught up with school friends. There weren't a lot compared to a Muggle school, but I knew it was more than there had been twenty years ago. Following the demographic crisis during the Wizarding Wars, wizards and witches had bred like rabbits in Australia. Most families had four-plus kids. These older kids weren't even the peak of the recent boom.

That was about to come through the door. Just over a thousand pre-teens, cold, excited, scared, tired, hungry, sick from too much candy...

I had a pretty bad case of nerves myself.

Galilea shushed the students. On cue the doors at the front of the Great Hall swung open and in walked Deputy Headmaster Theobrosan. His bushy white beard and huge smile made him look like a black Santa Claus. Behind him came the mob...

Well, as far as mobs go they were very subdued. They stayed quiet as they came down the aisle. Quiet and pale. A few waved to the older kids, siblings or cousins maybe. But for the most part their eyes were on the Sorting Hat. By this point even the Muggle-borns would know it was Very Important.

A long line of one thousand children, all dressed alike in those ridiculous black robes the Board refused to give up. At least Galilea had won the battle to rid Hogwarts of pointy black caps.

With the mob at last all through the doors, Galilea stepped in front of the stool. ''Welcome, returning students.'' For such a small woman she had a very carrying voice. ''Be seated, please.''

She waited for the shuffling to die down. ''Welcome, First Years. The Sorting Hat will now begin.'' And she stepped aside, and let the Hat start its work.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Please allow me to introduce myself

I'm the Hat that knows your place.

I've been around for a long long year

Seen many a youth's hidden face.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

A few names stood out, both famous and infamous. The children of the previous generation's child-soldiers had started trickling in to Hogwarts earlier, but this year was a near flood. Creevey, Lestrange, Malfoy, Potter, Selwyn, Weasley...

Galilea feared children trying to fight out family grudges. Rubeus feared bullies picking on his quiet godson. Neville worried that their parents were more likely to object if these kids became friends.

George Weasley owled me to tell me to keep his beloved neice safe from that Malfoy kid, and that I should remember he had a wand and I didn't. I'd forwarded - For-owled? - the letter on to Ron Weasley, along with a note expressing my concern that the daughter of two famous Aurors couldn't protect herself against an eleven year old boy. The last owl of the day came from George Weasley, asking me to call off his step-sister.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Emily Brown I, Gryffindor. Emily Brown II, Hufflepuff. Emily Brown III, Gryffindor. Emily Brown IV, Ravenclaw.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Harry Brown, Slytherin.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Hermione Brown, Hufflepuff.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

If you have a common last name, do your child a favour and choose anything other than a famous/common first name for them.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Jenny Everywhere, Slytherin.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Scorpius Malfoy. Pale, thin. When the Hat announced ''Gryffindor!'' I thought Hagrid would choke to death on his drink. The boy thanked Galilea, and then made his way through the crowd of First Years shaking hands. If there'd been a baby available he probably would have kissed it.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Albus Potter. The kind of shaggy hair that tells you the kid is trying to hide from the world. When the Hat said ''Slytherin!'', Rubeus crushed his goblet.

Severus Snape has three portraits. One in Galilea's office, one in the school infirmary, and one in the Poisons and Potions Ward of St. Mungo's.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Azrael Selwyn, Gryffindor.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Ronald Selwyn, Ravenclaw.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Harry Taylor I, Ravenclaw. Harry Taylor II, Gryffindor. Harry Taylor III, Hufflepuff. Harry Taylor IV, Hufflepuff. Harry Taylor V, Hufflepuff.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Seriously, Wizarding Britain, buy a damn baby-names book already.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Rose Weasley. The sun is not that girl's friend. When the Hat said ''Ravenclaw!'' I thought Rubeus might weep. The daughter of a champion chess player and the woman who'd personally written the entire book on Wizarding forensics practically skipped over to her new House.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Alice Wyvern, Ravenclaw.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

And at the end of it all? A vast sense of anticlimax. Because this September First fell on a Friday.