EDIT 3/13 - typo fixes
Link ruthlessly stifled a yawn as he followed Harry and his friends to the school carriages. He hadn't slept much the night before, thoughts circling endlessly on the form the boggart had taken. It had been hours before he'd regained the calm first taught to him by the Sheikah.
Harry had shot him curious looks all morning, clearly dying to ask, and Link was glad he had not. That he had frozen so badly before his fears stung, what his fear was stung even worse, and the hylian was keen to avoid further discussion on the matter. As per his agreement with Dumbledore, he couldn't actually avoidthe boy, but that would have been the cowardly action anyway.
Thankfully, between Sirius' insistence on accompanying them to the station and the youthful dramas played out after they'd boarded, Link was certain the green-eyed wizard had forgotten. The only event worth noting during the ride itself had been the Malfoy boy's odd word choice. Link might not have noticed had Harry and Hermione not reacted with such concern.
The hylian had proceeded to use the time the others spent catching up examining the train itself. Seeing the vehicle might have been more shocking had Link not personally witnessed such marvels as the Divine Beasts. His own, gleefully dubbed Vah Epona, was more advanced than even the four gargantuan Beasts, and they in turn were decades, possibly centuries, above the level readily accessible in this world.
That relative simplicity was a powerful lure. The science behind the ancient Sheikah tech had eluded even the brightest scholars for centuries. Even Robbie and Purah could only do so much with it, and they'd spent their entire lives with single-minded dedication to understanding the technology. Perhaps tech such as the train would be easier to replicate or adapt.
Whatever he could take home with him would be useful. That is, of course, if he made it there.
Mood souring, Link returned his attention to the group of young men and women, resisting the urge to fidget with his unfamiliarly flowing robes and the tie he'd needed Hermione's help tying. They'd finally selected a carriage, though Harry kept shooting strange looks at the beasts tethered to it. The horse-like creatures had dark, leathery hides stretched taught over bone, with massive black wings furled tight to their sides. They did not look particularly friendly, though they waited placidly for some unseen signal to start moving.
A bit like Stalhorses, he mused. Just as demonic in appearance, but docile. Link had ridden a fair few in his journey across Hyrule, and despite the discomfort of riding on bone, he had found them to be friendly, helpful creatures. That in mind, he bypassed the open door of the carriage to approach. The one nearest him pawed at the ground in boredom, undisturbed by his proximity.
The hylian reached out carefully, making sure the creature could see his movement clearly. It snorted once before tilting its head toward his hand in acceptance. Link stroked its mane. It felt nothing like a horse, but the creature's behavior was close enough.
"What are they, d'you reckon?" Harry asked with a slight grimace. The boy didn't seem inclined to move any closer. Link shrugged.
Ron gave them both a weird look. "What things?"
"The horse things? They're right there," he said, pointing. Link turned curiously, not bothering to stop stroking the beast. It was clearly enjoying the attention.
"There's nothing there, mate," Ron insisted, but he was frowning thoughtfully, gaze panning between Link and Harry. "D'you know what he's on about, then?"
Link shot the redhead a pointed look, giving the creature a few slow, deliberate pats. Luna chose that moment to approach. "Oh yes," she said easily. "They've always been there." The pale girl smiled and slipped past them, into the carriage. Harry's gaze trailed after her uncertainly. His mouth opened and closed silently. Unable to put voice to thought, he gave up, sliding in after the girl.
They were almost there, Link thought, following after a bemused Ron. Behind him, the creature tossed its dark head in anticipation as the line of carriages started forward. Link turned his gaze out the window where, dotted with warm flickers of torchlight, the castle gleamed in welcome.
The ride passed in silence, the carriage's occupants too lost in their own thoughts to strike up conversation. To Link, it was just a little unsettling. He was used to the quiet of the wilderness, the silence of solitary travel. But all of his prior companions had been proud, confident people who did not hesitate to share their thoughts. Zelda in particular had a habit of filling the quiet with words directed at no one and everyone, merely a means of organizing her thoughts.
It was with a sense of relief that they finally left the carriages, trickling through the massive doors leading to the Great Hall.
"Mr. Hyrule," a stern voice called. Link turned to the stately witch draped in emerald robes as she beckoned him to one side. The hylian had seen her once or twice at Grimmauld Place, but hadn't yet spoken with her. He hadn't realized she was a teacher.
"Tradition dictates that the students of Hogwarts be sorted into one of four houses by the qualities they possess. These houses will dictate with whom and where each student will stay for their time at the school," McGonagall informed him. "You will be no different."
That made no sense to Link. Dumbledore had asked him to watch over Harry and his friends; it was part of his agreement to stay at the castle. Why risk making his job that much harder? Or perhaps they intended to simply go through the motions of whatever this ceremony was, and place him with Harry regardless of which qualities his house desired.
"Please wait here while the first years are sorted. They will be arriving momentarily." She left him to his own devices then, preparing for the arrival of the first years as the last of the returning students cleared the entrance.
Thankfully, he did not have long to wait. McGonagall directed the group of children inside the doors, silencing their nervous chatter with barely a look and a word. She wore authority well, Link observed.
The witch then proceeded to explain to the new students what she had just told to Link, forming them up into a rough line and leading them through the doors. Link could faintly hear the notes of a song through the closed doors, one that rang ominously at the end, and which contradicted McGonagall's seeming acceptance of the sorting tradition as a whole. He didn't have much time to ponder on the bafflingly mixed messages he was receiving however, as the sorting itself soon started.
Ragged cheers were audible even through the thick wood, accompanied by intermittent shouts of "Gryffindor," "Ravenclaw," "Hufflepuff," and "Slytherin." No further clues as to how the sorting itself was conducted were forthcoming, and Link couldn't help but pout inwardly. He hated not feeling prepared.
The cheers and the noise slowly tapered off, and Dumbledore's voice rose in the ensuing quiet. "It has been many years since Hogwarts has had the fortune of offering a place to transfer students. As such, I would like you all to provide a proper welcome to the newest among our number, Link Hyrule."
The huge doors before him creaked open on their own. Taking that as his cue, Link strode forward. Though he'd known there were a great many students at Hogwarts, Link was still taken aback by their number. There were more witches and wizards in this one room than there were people in most hylian towns in Hyrule. Granted, the Calamity had taken its toll on the population, but even before only Castle Town had more residents than there were students at Hogwarts. Link had certainly never seen so many children all in one place.
Whispers rose and fell as he passed the four long tables to where McGonagall waited behind an old, pointed hat. Though most of the comments were expected, a great many of them commenting on his ears (which he didn't blame them for in the slightest), he couldn't help the tiny flush that rose to his cheeks as he heard the words "pretty" and "cute." And "tiny." More than once.
McGonagall again silenced the room with a cutting glance and looked to Link expectantly. He quirked a brow and she returned with a small but pointed nod at the hat where it rested on a small, three-legged stool.
Wizards sorted their students... with a hat?
The only thing to do, it seemed, was what one would naturally expect from such an article of clothing, He picked it up and placed it on his head.
"Well, now, it has been a while, hasn't it?"
Link recognized the voice from the song. "What has?" he thought back.
"I have not seen a child of Hylia a long, long time. Such doors have not been opened in an age, not since the very founding of this school."
Link unconsciously straigthened, now fully alert. "What doors?" he asked sharply. "What do you mean?"
"There exist a number of doors between your world and ours," the hat responded easily. "I was told once that within your world there lies a key with the power to open them. But I don't know more than that. Now, where to put you?"
The hylian froze in disbelief. "Wait! Who told you this? Where are these doors?"
"I don't know," the hat scoffed at having to repeat itself. He proceeded to ignore the questions blazing through Link's mind like lightning and murmured to itself, "Loyalty, yes, and such a strong desire. A quick mind, too... but no, with so much courage, there's only one place for you. You're best placed in no other than GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed that last aloud, the sound ringing painfully through Link's sensitive ears. He swept the hat off his head, dropping it into McGonagall's waiting hands.
One of the tables burst into cheers. Link panned his gaze down the long table, relieved when he spotted Harry and his friends sitting with a group of students their age. He hastened toward the familiar faces, and Hermione scooched to one side to make room for him. Link nodded gratefully and the bushy-haired girl beamed.
Dumbledore stood and bid the students a brief but heartfelt welcome, and quite suddenly there was so much food crowding the tables that they groaned under the weight of it all. The hylian shamelessly distracted himself by placing a bit of everything in reach on his plate, ignoring the flatly disbelieving look Hermione threw the towering pile as he dug in.
If this was what he could expect at Hogwarts, Link could easily enjoy his stay here.
Harry was having a hard time containing his frustration. Argument with Seamus still fresh on his mind, he glowered his way out of the common room.
The Great Hall was noisy with chatter by the time Harry, Hermione, and Ron had settled in for breakfast. As he had last night, Link sat by Hermione, perusing one of the many books he'd waded hip-deep in all summer. Hermione, not unexpectedly, vocally approved of the blond's studiousness.
Harry thought he looked a bit funny, swamped in the same flowing robes as the rest of the students. The loose fabric made him look even smaller than he already was, and he was barely the height of the average third-year to begin with.
It was difficult to remember, sometimes, that this was the wizard who'd single-handedly killed two dementors.
Harry shook his head absently, accepting his class schedule from McGonagall as she passed. Hermione barely glanced up from her newspaper in time to receive hers.
Ron groaned loudly. "Mondays are going to be awful," he moaned. "Binns, Snape, Trelawny, and that Ministry stooge," he added disgustedly, clearly thinking of Hermione's words after the toad-woman's speech the night prior. Harry had a feeling he was right. Mondays were going to be dreadful. Even Fred and George agreed, when they stopped by, and neither of them were much serious about anything related to school.
To Harry's surprise Link broke away from them after breakfast, merely asking Hermione for directions to the library. "Oh," she startled, even as she gave the directions. "But we have History now, and it wouldn't do for you to get off to bad start here, not on your first day!"
Link waved her concerns off, flashing his own schedule at her. Whatever the girl saw had her raising her brows. "Alright then. We'll see you in Potions, Link. If you get lost, don't hesitate to ask the portraits how to get there."
She hummed thoughtfully as he thanked her and left. At Harry's questioning look she responded, "He's been exempted from History and Astronomy. I could understand if they were electives, but both of those are core classes!"
"Unfair," Ron whined. "Why do we have to sit through Binns when he doesn't? History's pointless!"
Hermione's frosty glare told him he'd definitely said the wrong thing. "History is important," she snapped. "How else are we to learn from our ancestors? Not to mention understanding today. Goblin relations alone should tell you-"
"Yeah, yeah," Ron waved airily, and unwisely, Harry thought blandly. "But not the way Binns teaches it. The only thing I get out of that class is a free nap."
"If that's the way you feel," Hermione huffed, "then you can forget about borrowing my notes."
Harry tuned out their bickering, sure it would have continued for much longer if it hadn't been for class actually starting. Not that Binns would have noticed if it had Harry thought idly, eyelids drooping. Ron was right about one thing; Binns was horribly boring.
Link slipped into the Potions classroom just as the bell rang, looking unfairly relaxed under Snape's perpetual glower. "Five points from Gryffindor," the man hissed, "for tardiness."
Harry withheld a sigh, sure Snape would find a reason to take points away had he dared make a sound. It was barely the first class of the year, and already they were losing points. If this were an indication of how the rest of the year would go, Gryffindor probably shouldn't bother coming down to the dungeons at all.
"My apologies, Professor," the elfin wizard said politely, sliding into the seat next to Hermione. He seemed quite fond of her, Harry mused. When he didn't have his nose in a book, he was usually hanging around the bushy-haired witch. Hermione didn't seem to mind.
Snape eyed the blond darkly but didn't seem to find fault with his words, stalking to the front of the room. His class introduction was predictably mean-spirited, making it perfectly clear how little he expected his students to accomplish this year, gaze lingering pointedly on a select few students. Harry was entirely unsurprised when Snape's pointed remarks about standards coincided with his black glare falling directly on him.
Perhaps if the man were a competent teacher, Harry thought sourly, more students might actually learn something.
Class followed the same standard the man had set years ago. He flicked his wand, directions for the potion they were to make appearing on the blackboard, and hovered menacingly as the students went about following them. Harry glanced around as he worked, noting the extra books on Link's workstation. He was clearly unfamiliar with many of the ingredients, taking the time to reference them briefly before getting started. How he got away with it was anyone's guess - Snape would have been on his case instantly had Harry done so.
Maybe he just didn't want the new kid blowing anything up. Who knew?
About ten minutes in, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. Ron was not mad enough to try and talk during potions, so Harry glanced up quickly from his powdered porcupine quills, wondering who was brave - or perhaps dumb - enough to try anything under Snape's large nose. To Harry's surprise it was Link who, holding a vaguely star-shaped flower, gestured pointedly at the board.
The green-eyed wizard frowned for a moment before it clicked. Oh. Hellebore. He'd nearly skipped one of the instructions.
Harry grinned in thanks, shifting focus to the correct ingredient. Another hour passed in tense silence before Snape called time.
Hermione's potion, as always, was perfect, a pale silver vapor rising steadily from it as it cooled. Link's, despite his slow start, was twin to hers. To Harry's utmost shock, so was his own. He felt a little thrill of pride as he stared down at his work. There was no way Snape could fault him today.
Sadly, Harry was wrong. The man passed Hermione's cauldron without comment, but as soon as he stopped at Harry's a pinched expression crossed his face. "I would call this decent," he hissed, "if it were indeed your own work. Tell me, Potter, did you think you could get away with cheating in my classroom?"
Harry glared. "I didn't-"
"Did you or did you not accept instruction from one of your... peers... Mr. Potter?"
He hesitated. While Link had done nothing but point at the board, undoubtedly Snape would not see it that way. Before he could think of a response, the potions master scoffed loudly. "Twenty points from Gryffindor," he spat, vanishing Harry's potion with a sharp wave of his wand.
Harry was left to fume in silence as everyone else bottled their potions. He had done his work. He hadn't cheated. His potion had been perfect, and Snape knew it. And yet he was the only one that would fail today's lesson. Knuckles white from clenched fingers, the Gryffindor stormed out of the dungeon before anyone else had even finished cleaning.
Link trailed after Hermione and Ron when they finally made it to lunch. Harry's shepherd's pie tasted like ash in his mouth.
"I'm sorry," the blond apologized softly, brows furrowed in confusion. "I didn't realize helping each other was against the rules."
"Only in Snape's class," Harry growled. "And only for Gryffindors. He doesn't actually care if we learn anything, and he's had it out for me since first year."
Hermione looked uncomfortable, but notably did not disagree. With the second part, anyway. "He is our professor," she said, shrinking slightly at Harry's fierce glower. "And I, for one, have learned a lot in his class."
Harry was sure she hadn't meant to sound so superior, but Hermione was not always the most understanding of other's academic struggles, particularly when they called a teacher's authority into question.
Ron snorted. "Come off it, 'Mione. The only thing I've learned in there is that Snape's a right bastard."
The girl stared at Ron, aghast. Less, Harry hoped, because of the accusation than because he'd said it where others could hear.
"It was good practice," Link began diplomatically, "but I received more use out of reading the text than Snape's directions," he ended far less so. "Anyone can follow a set of instructions," he added at Hermione's frown, "but a teacher is there to help you improve, not scare you into compliance. Snape did nothing else but watch."
That was more than Link had said at once since they'd met, Harry noted. He felt grimly satisfied that the elfin blond would trouble himself to voice such an opinion.
Hermione bit her lip, but couldn't find it in herself to disagree. Ron noisily voiced his approval through a mouthful of pie.
"Oh, do close your mouth, Ron, that's foul."
Ron rolled his eyes, making sure to chew his next few bites so obnoxiously that even Harry, long used to such antics, felt a little grossed out.
Link did not share Divination with them, instead making his way to the Muggle Studies classroom. Given the behavior Harry had witnessed during their shared time at the Dursley's he wasn't surprised.
Thankfully, Trelawney didn't seem interested in making a production of Harry's presence that day, and he went through the motions of dream interpretation with a dull disinterest. Defense was next, and Harry had a sinking feeling that any class run by one of Fudge's people was going to be horrid.
They entered the classroom, Umbridge perched at her desk like a large pink toad, painted lips stretched in an obviously fake smile. Link was just ahead of them, a fact which didn't surprise Harry at all. The Divination tower was on the other side of the castle, and whoever had scheduled the two classes so close together clearly had it out for them.
Umbridge's smile faded as she caught sight of Link. Her beady eyes lingered on his long, pointed ears, with what Harry saw was poorly disguised disgust. "Ms. Hyrule, dear, I don't know what things were like at your... previous school..." the way she said "school" indicating she must have thought very little of it "...but here we expect our students to wear the appropriate uniform."
Link stared at her, the tips of his ears burning crimson.
Harry wondered what... Wait. Oh. Oh.
Ms.
The frustrations of the day dissolved abruptly as a sudden burst of hilarity welled in Harry's chest. She thought... Well, Harry mused with a snort, staring at the way Link's robes swallowed his already delicate features. The blond's long hair was in its familiar half-tail, but he'd switched his regular blue earrings out for a pair of rather feminine opal teardrops. Harry had seen him debating an elegant circlet that morning, too. I suppose I can't blame her.
"Professor Umbridge," Link started, voice pitched slightly higher out of sheer embarrassment, which didn't help at all, "I... I'm not..."
Ron guffawed, having long lost his battle for composure. By this time the other students had also caught on, and the room rang with laughter. Even Hermione, already seated, book out, was giggling.
"Ms. Hyrule?" Umbridge asked uncertainly. She was beginning to look irritated, eyes flitting about the room, clearly wondering what the class was on about.
Link's cherry-tinted cheeks darkened. "I'm not a girl," he bit out finally.
Harry found it absurdly funny that even the blush staining Link's features only made him look more delicate, especially compared to Umbridge, who froze, an unattractive, blotchy flush coloring her face. "Take a seat, if you would, Mr. Hyrule," she squawked, and though Link complied, the damage had already been done. She'd completely lost control of the room.
Harry, grinning like a loon, followed after the blond. Ron all but collapsed into the chair next to him, sides heaving.
"I can't believe she thought you're a girl," he sputtered.
"I'm not even dressed like one this time..." Link muttered. Then he seemed to realize what he said and the red on his face, if possible, darkened even further.
Ron whipped around, face alight in pure glee. "This time?! Merlin's beard," he swore. "This I've got to hear." He leaned in eagerly and Link jerked back, looking rather like a startled deer.
"Settle down, class!" Umbridge all but shrieked. Harry realized then that it wasn't the first time she'd done so, merely the first anyone could hear. The giggles subsided slowly. By the time Umbridge had regained a modicum of authority, they were nearly five minutes into the lesson. "Wands away," she said stiffly. "You won't be needing them." Whispers and titters still sounded as she tapped the board with her wand. She clearly wasn't handling the disruption well.
Despite her stiff motions her stubby little wand did its job, and neat script printed itself on the blackboard. Harry found his mood sinking once more as he took them in; a "return to basic principles" didn't sound very promising. Her course aims were similarly uninspiring.
Wilbert Slinkhard's book was even worse. Harry found his eyes sliding shut after a few horribly dull pages, unable to focus. It was only when he noticed Hermione raising her hand, rather than reading, that he straightened from his slump.
"Yes, dear?" she asked tightly. The blotches were just starting to fade from her cheeks.
Hermione then did something Harry never thought she'd do. She outright questioned a teacher about her class, in front of every student there, her tone one of clear disapproval. And she was right to, of course, Harry thought, glancing up at the board. The course aims all carefully did not mention practicing any spells at all.
If that were concerning, then Umbridge's response was downright alarming. "Why Ms. Granger," Umbridge said, tone sickly sweet. "We are in a school. Why on earth would you need to use a defensive spell? Surely you aren't expecting to be attacked in my classroom."
Whispers started up again immediately; there was more than one offended outcry. Umbridge could not be serious, surely?
Voldemort was out there right now, and Umbridge didn't want them learning any spells? Harry's ears rang as the discussion flowed around him in muted waves. They weren't going to use magic? Of course not. How were they to practice? They wouldn't. Wouldn't the examiners expect it? Theory would take them far enough.
He couldn't believe Dumbledore had let someone so ignorant become a teacher.
It didn't take long for things to get out of hand. Umbridge barked angrily for students to raise their hands, but they ignored her easily, shouting complaints in a crush of overlapping noise.
Umbridge's face was once more splotchy and red, and she looked about ready to throw the lot of them out. Harry barely noticed over the feel his anger building again, like a swift-rising tide. "What good is theory against Voldemort?" he cut in icily.
A few of his classmates jumped, letting out alarmed gasps at the word that only irritated Harry further. The toad-like woman looked frightfully triumphant in that moment, and the class's alarm tapered into silence.
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Umbridge said, sickly sweet. "Despite what you may have heard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died over a decade ago."
The toad-woman steamrolled over his words, voice cutting as she denounced him a liar. Harry's rage only continued to build.
"He's not dead!" Harry shouted. "He never was, and he's back!"
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge snapped.
Things only devolved from there.
"Well that went well," Ron said weakly as they poured out of the Defense classroom.
Hermione looked worried. "I wish Harry hadn't said those things," she sighed.
"He was right, though," Ron argued.
"It doesn't matter that he was right, Ron," she snapped. "Umbridge is a teacher and she works for the Ministry. He needs to be careful." The bushy-haired witch groaned. "And Parvati was right too. Honestly, how does Umbridge expect us to perform spells correctly for the first time at an examination of all places?"
"She couldn't even guess my gender right the first time," Link muttered a touch sulkily. Ron snorted loudly. Even Hermione's lips twitched.
"Still," the hylian sighed, "she's being irrational. What purpose does our ignorance serve?"
"Maybe she's working for You-Know-Who?" Ron suggested seriously.
Hermione frowned. "I doubt it," she said, "but it's possible I suppose, if he thinks she'll be a hindrance to Dumbledore. I can't se him devoting so much time and energy into inconveniencing a bunch of students though."
"Harry's basically his worst enemy, and he's a student," Ron pointed out.
"True," Hermione acknowledged. "But Dumbledore's the bigger threat."
The discussion continued all the way down to the Great Hall. Harry was already there, stabbing at his food as though it had personally offended him.
Link watched the younger wizard thoughtfully. Zelda had been so angry too, a century ago, and while their circumstances were different, the result was much the same. So few had believed in her that she'd nearly stopped believing in herself. And with the world seemingly against her, she'd fought back the only way she could - with anger. While hers had primarily focused on Link, Harry was lashing out at anyone he could, even his friends.
The boy was so angry it was driving him to recklessness; even more than before, if Hermione were to be believed. And Link did. Defense class that day had certainly validated her concerns.
Harry needed to realize that people like Umbridge didn't matter. He had the support of the people that counted; everything else would come in time.
Link tapped the boy's shoulder. Green eyes flicked up to meet blue. "About Umbridge," he started gently.
"If you're about to tell me off too, you can shove it," Harry snapped.
"Harry!" Hermione rebuked, aghast.
He merely shook his head, frustrated, and stormed off, meal mostly untouched. They watched his retreating back in worry.
"Oh, Link," the girl fretted. "I'm sorry about him, it's just been so difficult for him lately..." She trailed off, clearly finding her words inadequate.
"It's fine," he sighed. Link wasn't really hurt by Harry's actions. If he thought about it a certain way, the hylian could even say he'd trained for this. The thought amused him, though Hermione still looked distressed.
"But it's not! You've not done anything wrong." She scowled. "I don't know what to do about him. He shouldn't be taking his temper out on us."
For once, Ron did not defend his best friend.
Link remained silent. He didn't know either. Zelda had eventually turned herself around and opened up to Link, a process that had been soothing to both of them, but it had taken saving her from Yiga assassins for that to happen. That was unlikely to be an option here.
The hylian was beginning to think Lupin was right. He really hadn't known what he was in for.