This was it! Hogwarts was within reach!
The rowboats glided over the dark water of the lake, sending tiny ripples out across the surface. The autumn air was cool, smelling faintly of foliage. Harry's eyes swept over the other occupants of his rowboat. Next to him sat Neville, preoccupied with the approaching castle. On the bench in front of them sat two other boys.
"My brothers told me there's a giant squid in this lake," the ginger said to the boy besides him. The latter turned his head and raised an eyebrow.
"They said the potions-master picks a random first year to feed to the squid," he added.
"What's wrong with you mate?" the other boy replied.
"It's not like I believe them – they like to play pranks on me. Well, on everybody - but especially on me."
"Man-eating squid? No way..."
"The giant squid is real you know," Neville pipped up from besides Harry. "It was around when my grandmother went to Hogwarts."
"The bit about the potions master is true too you know," Harry added, struggling to keep a straight face. "I ran into him at Diagon Alley when I was buying my scales – he tried to stuff me into a cauldron."
"Oh, shut it" the red-head grumbled. "No need to gang up on me. I bet there is no squid. My brothers are just trying to scare me. You know what, watch this…" The boy dipped his hand into the water all the way to his elbow. "See, everything is fine." He turned towards Harry, grinning widely as he swung his hand side to side beneath the water. Unfortunately, he failed to see one of the oars come forward and only felt something bump into his hand. He squealed, throwing himself backwards and clear over the opposite side of the boat. The water churned as he flailed about with his arms, his head bobbing above the water. The occupants of the adjacent rowboats turned to look at the commotion.
"Help! Help! Helgrh!" A giant grey tentacle emerged from the water, hoisting the boy up into the air by his ankle before depositing him back into the rowboat. As the red-head lay on his back, the slimy appendage quietly slipped back into the water. The boy slowly rose to a sitting position, his face on the verge of tears.
"Was that the bloody squid?" he moaned between coughs.
Neville and Harry looked at each other, both equally stunned by the scene, before turning back. The other boy slapped the redhead on the back.
"That was bloody brilliant mate. We haven't even made it off the boat, and you've already faced a giant squid. My name's Seamus, by the way."
"Ron… Weasley"
Over the next ten minutes, the color slowly returned to Ron's cheeks. The incident with the squid seemed to dispel any shyness, and the four boys spent the rest of their brief journey over the lake talking to each other. Like Madam Malkin, Ron was also a huge Chudley Cannons fan. He, Seamus, and Neville had a heated debate about their recent match against the Falmouth Falcons. According to Seamus, it had been a miracle that none of the Cannons had ended up in Saint Mungo's considering ferocity of the Falcon beaters. Harry felt a bit uncomfortable during the conversation. He had never heard of quidditch before, and didn't have much to contribute. Neville seemed to pick up on this, and shifted the conversation in another direction. Ron was getting pretty worked up, so the timing was perfect. Before they knew it, they reached the edge of the lake.
"Alright you lot, step out and follow me" Hagrid boomed over the voices of the students. The group of first years stepped out after the giant man, and together they made their way up a sloping hill towards the castle. Now that they were closer, they could pick up on the finer details of the castle. The outer walls were thick and stretched up so far that they dwarfed the group, and even Hagrid. Large spires and towers jutted out from the interior of the castle. Most of the stone was a deep gray, and the individual blocks looked to be the size of a large television set. A moat surrounded the walls, its details difficult to discern in the shadows.
The group crossed the moat via a large stone bridge, bringing them to a large set of iron reinforced oak double doors. Hagrid rapped sharply on the door. Moments later, it swung open to reveal the same grey-haired witch Harry had met the previous week.
"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here"
The giant man stepped aside, allowing the students to file into the castle after Professor McGonagall. The hallway just inside the doors was huge, easily larger than the one at Gringotts. Burnished suits of armor lined the edges, and stone gargoyles were perched in alcoves under the ceiling. More shockingly for Harry, the walls were lined with paintings, each one of them animated like the illustrations in his books. Unlike the books, the paintings seemed to be looking straight at them. He could swear he heard some of the paintings talking to each other, but it was difficult to tell with all the excited chatter between the students. The professor stopped walking just outside a slightly smaller set of double doors. She turned around to face the group, and clapped her hands – the magically amplified sound echoed through the chamber. The first years quickly fell silent and turned to face her.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is professor McGongagall, and I will teach you transfiguration during your time here at Hogwarts. For some of you, I will also be your head of house. The start-of-term feast will begin soon, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. You will spend much of your time here at Hogwarts alongside your house-mates, so the sorting carries more than just symbolic importance." She paused briefly. The entire chamber was hanging on her words.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced notable witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose your house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." She paused once again, smiling at the crowd of students.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place shortly in front of the rest of the school. Don't fret, all the older students once stood where you stand today. Even I was young once and anxiously awaiting my sorting. Please take the next few minutes to compose yourselves, and I will return when it is time for you to enter the hall." The professor turned towards the double doors, but stopped when her eyes fell on Ron's shivering figure. She pulled out her wand, and cast a spell in the boy's direction. The moisture in his clothes vanished instantly, to a loud cheer from the crowd of students. McGonagall shook her head slightly as she stowed her wand and continued into the great hall. The room burst into chatter as soon as the doors swung shut behind her.
"Which house do you think you will be in?"
"My older sister said we have to take a surprise exam to be sorted"
"I heard Gryffindor is the best place to be for parties"
"My father said he would disown me if I end up in Slytherin – I really think he means it!"
Voices drowned each other out to the point where Harry couldn't pick out a single one. He chose instead to look around the chamber. His eyes fell on the paintings once again, and he noticed many of them whispering to each other and pointing at this student or that. They seemed to be able to walk into adjacent portraits. He wondered if they could enter painted landscapes, or if they could only enter the space of other painted humans. His thoughts were interrupted by another booming clap – professor McGonagall had returned.
"Form a line, please." The students rushed forward, half jostling for a position at the front while the other half fought for who would be last.
"The sorting will proceed in alphabetical order, where you stand in line is irrelevant" the witch informed them, a hint of exasperation in her voice. Harry found himself standing somewhere near the center, next to a girl with brown bushy hair. She too was staring at the portraits, seemingly deep in thought. There were shouts from some of the students as a group of silvery-translucent figures emerged from one of the side walls and drifted towards the Main Hall. Harry assumed they were ghosts – some of them bore gruesome wounds, so it was the only plausible explanation. As the students settled back into formation, the professor pointed her wand at the door. The doors swung open, revealing a chamber even larger than the one they were standing in.
"Follow me then."
The group of first years filed in after professor McGonagall. Harry was immediately struck by the ceiling or rather lack of one. Above him hung the night sky, complete with innumerable stars and a waning moon. The bushy haired girl caught him looking.
"It's enchanted you know. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
Harry nodded, that certainly made sense. The Great Hall itself was split into four quadrants by perpendicular mosaic walkways. Each of the quadrants housed several long tables, and large swaths of seated students. It was unnerving to see so many heads looking at his group at the same time. Above the tables hung large colored banners, each depicting a different animal. The front of the room was dominated by a raised platform. On top of stood another table, this one seating adults. He scanned the occupants, and spotted professor Snape among them.
Mcgonagall stopped just short of the platform, next to a tall stool. An old pointy hat lay on the stool. It looked fairly battered, and ancient even by magical standards. Astonishingly, the hat began to sing. The song gave an overview of the different houses, and claimed that it would place each student where they fit best. Harry was relieved – if he was to believe some of the rumors he had overheard on the way there, they would be fighting an acromantula, whatever that was.
The gray-haired witch spoke quietly, swirling her wand. A large scroll rose from the head table and flew into her hand. She read the first name off the list – Hannah Abbot. A blond girl walked up to the stool, and the professor placed the hat on her head. Moments later, the hat cried "Hufflepuff!"
One by one, the students made their way to the hat. The bushy haired girl by Harry was called up towards the beginning and sorted into Gryffindor. Harry didn't really know most of the other people around him, and he was nervous about his own sorting, so he didn't pay much attention. It seemed like each house got the same number of students, although the Gryfindor tables made as much noise as both groups put together whenever the hat sent somebody their way. As soon as each student was sorted, they made their way to the appropriate quadrant. After what felt like ages, they reached the P's. Two Indian twins were called, one going to Gryffindor, and the other to Ravenclaw. Another girl followed, sorted to Hufflepuff. Harry closed his eyes. If he knew his alphabet, his name would be coming up very soon.
"Harry Potter" Professor McGonagall called.
Whispers erupted among the tables, and then a steady crescendo into pandemonium. McGonagall Harry walked forward towards the hat, feeling eyes staring from all directions. He briefly made eye contact with a man at the center of the head table sporting a long white beard. Harry felt the familiar tickling feeling in his head, even fainter than it had been with Snape or Ollivander. He chased the feeling, and it quickly disappeared, replaced by a brief look of surprise on the bearded man's face. The boy reached the hat, and professor McGongagall placed it on his head.
His vision blacked out. White pinpricks of light seemed to float in space in front of him. After a brief moment of panic, his sight slowly returned. All of the other students were gone. The great hall was empty save for an ornately dressed woman standing before him, a sapphire-studded silver band perched above her forehead. She was looking at Harry with an expression he couldn't quite place. He grasped for words before finally settling on a question.
"Who are you?"
The woman's face morphed into a smile. Harry felt the familiar sensation in his head, but focusing on it did not make it disappear. Instead, he heard a voice in his head.
"I am merely a projection of my creator, one of the founders of this place." The woman, no, illusion, swept her arms across the hall.
"How is this possible?" Harry gasped. The figure before him shook her head softly.
"A spell – a spell which embodies me with some of my creator's wisdom, and just enough of her abilities to sort students. I'm afraid I cannot answer any questions about her, or of her time. Likewise, I cannot recall other students before you."
"Cannot recall, or will not recall?"
The figure smiled more brightly.
"Cannot" the voice in his mind echoed. "to me, all of the sortings occupy the same moment in time. I cannot tell you about past students. To me, they have not happened yet. As for my creator, she granted me none of her memories or magical abilities – only the power to reason and see that which is hidden in the minds of others. No small feat, mind you – and rather clever as it deters those who would abuse my knowledge for personal gain."
Harry nodded. "Well, what do I have to do to be sorted?"
"A fine question, why do you think you have to do anything? After all, isn't a Gryffindor a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw a Ravenclaw?"
Harry thought for a minute before responding. "I think... who we are depends on what we do. If a Ravenclaw reads a lot of books but never uses that knowledge, is she still a Ravenclaw? If she uses the information to help her friends, is she now a Hufflepuff? I would think that what we think or what we feel is meaningless when labeling a person – it is our actions and how they are seen by others that are truly important, at least when we are labeled. Maybe not for you, since you can get inside my head, but for everybody else it should be true."
"How would you have others see you?"
Harry sat silent for a moment, staring at the stone floor. During his first years at Privett Drive, the Dursleys had seen him as an unwanted burden. In the years that followed, they had simply not seen him at all. It was as if he did not exist.
"I would have them see me. I would have those around me know me, and want me to know them."
The figure before him cocked her head to the side, and gradually began to flicker.
"And how will you make them notice you?"
Harry lifted his chin. He looked around the hall - at the students that were no longer there, at the portraits that stood frozen in time. He felt something flood through his head. He verbalized thoughts he didn't knew he had with a sheer determination beyond his age. "With magic. I will train until I am stronger than them... smarter than them... better than them."
The figure smiled faintly. "How ambitious. You remind me of him, of Salazar..."
The figure before Harry disappeared, and the presence in his mind vanished. He looked around, and the great hall was full of students once again. He felt motion on top of his head, and remembered that the hat was still sitting there.
"Slytherin!"
Harry felt McGonagall remove the hat from his head, and for a moment, the Great Hall was completely silent. A few seconds later, murmurs and whispers broke out between the seated students. Even the professors seemed stunned. The old man with the long beard was the first to recover, and nodded his head in professor McGonagall's direction. She quickly looked to the list, and read off the next name.
Harry took the opportunity to walk to the Slytherin quadrant in the back-right of the chamber. The Gryffindors were seated in the front-left, and he could feel them staring at him as he moved through the big aisle bisecting the hall. Many of them were frowning, although Harry wasn't sure what they were so upset about. The bushy haired girl that had informed Harry of the enchanted ceiling, a Hermione Granger according to the hat, was chatting to Neville at the Gryffindor table. The tall boy had a glum expression on his face, and seemed to be only half paying attention. His eyes were following Harry, and the freshly minted Slytherin smiled at him when they made eye contact. Neville seemed to cheer up a bit, and gave a small wave, receiving frowns from some of the Gryffindors near him.
The Ravenclaws sitting in the front-right were also staring at Harry, but they seemed curious rather than upset by his sorting. The Hufflepuffs were actually paying attention to the next person being sorted. Most of them had clapped for Harry, but then again, they had clapped for everybody regardless of house affiliation.
After what felt like eternity, Harry reached the Slytherin quadrant. At a glance, the tables were segregated by year. He recognized some of the students that had been following McGonagall earlier; they were sitting at the front most table. While the upper class tables looked to be mixed, the first years had separated themselves by gender, with four sorted boys sitting at one end and four girls at the other. Harry sat down an unoccupied space next to a stringy looking boy. Across from him sat a blond flanked by two other boys with builds that reminded Harry of Dudley. The blond boy was about to speak, but then abruptly paused as McGonagall announced an 'Ornelle Runcorn.' A short girl with auburn hair walked up to the platform. The hat was on her head for only a second before proclaiming her a Slytherin. The Slytherins promptly clapped, followed by the Hufflepuffs and some of the Ravenclaws.
"Do you know her?" the boy sitting next to Harry asked.
"Of course!" the blond boy scoffed. "She's a Runcorn."
"What are they like?"
"Red hair, like the Weasley's. Only the Runcorn's are not blood traitors, and they have fewer children. What's it to you Nott? Do you have a crush on her?" Malfoy's satellites erupted with laughter, and the lanky boy turned a shade of crimson.
"Sod off Draco, I was just curious."
The blond boy grinned – "I'll allow it this time. Speaking of fewer children, what's the last remaining Potter doing here?"
Harry shifted in his seat as the blond boy turned to him. He shrugged as he replied.
"The hat told me to sit here, so I did."
Nott giggled, and Draco shot him a quick scowl before turning back to Harry.
"You're a Potter..."
"Yes, I know."
The blond boy leaned forward a bit. "You shouldn't be so cheeky, especially as a Potter."
Harry stared back blankly. He had gotten an impression from Neville and Snape that his family had played an important role in the wizarding world. They hadn't been very thorough in explaining what that role was, but maybe he could get Draco to talk about it. "What's so different about my family?"
"Apart from being one of oldest known magical lines in Britain and 'defeating' the dark lord? Well, there's the fact that you've been gone for the past ten years. Where were you all that time?"
Hmm, oldest magical lines in Britain - Snape and Neville hadn't mentioned anything about that. On the other hand, this was the third time Harry heard about the 'dark lord,' so beating him must have been pretty important. He shrugged. "I was living with my aunt and uncle."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Bollocks. If you had any other relatives, they would be in Nature's Nobility."
The mountain sitting to the right of Malfoy chose that moment to speak up. "Draco would know that, you know. He's read that book so many times…"
"Shut up Goyle," Draco interrupted nonchalantly, his eyes fixed on Harry. "Well, are you going to tell us the truth?"
"I am telling the truth. They're just ordinary people, so you probably wouldn't find them in any book."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. With some effort, he managed to bring them back down.
"Wait a minute, ordinary as in muggles?" Draco followed up, subconsciously leaning forward in his seat.
Harry nodded, fixing a puzzled expression on his face. It wasn't very difficult since he was actually confused. "Yeah, is there a problem?"
"No, not at all," Draco spoke quickly, twisting the ring on his left hand in what looked to Harry as a forced attempt at looking disinterested. "What were they like?"
Draco seemed too interested in his aunt and uncle, especially after hearing they were muggles. Snape had told Harry that being called a mudblood was extremely offensive to most wizards. It was obvious that Draco wanted Harry to alienate himself from his new house-mates by saying something positive about his aunt and uncle. Harry laughed internally. If only the blond boy knew the Dursleys - or how much Harry had hated them. He glowered at Draco with genuine anger. "Pretty foul actually, thanks for asking."
Draco seemed a bit disappointed by the response, but nodded sagely at Harry. "That's to be expected – our kind aren't meant to mingle with muggles, let alone live with them." He smiled. "You know what Potter, you're not that bad, and I do feel some sympathy for your plight. Tell you what, if you play it smart, I may even let you be seen in public with me occasionally."
Harry turned to the boy besides him. "Was he like this the entire day?"
Nott rolled his eyes. "He's like all the time. I've known him since we could walk, and every year it just gets worse."
Harry grinned back. Nott seemed alright at least. Surprised at the lack of retort from Malfoy, he turned to look at the blond and noticed he and his henchmen were staring at the stage. A dark skinned boy had the hat placed on his head. He sat there for a couple of moments before the hat announced "Gryffindor!"
"What!?" Malfoy sputtered. "First Potter and then this! Where am I? Am I dreaming?" He grasped blindly at the air in front of him, earning giggles from the girls sitting to their right.
Harry raised an eyebrow at the boy next to him. "Can you fill me in, Nott?"
"Sure, he's a Zabinni you see – they've been Slytherins for generations. Also, don't be like Draco - call me Theo."
"I can kind of see it though," Draco interjected rudely. "His mother's just done-in her fourth husband. Zabinni must be pretty brave if he eats or drinks anything near her, so it makes sense he's in Gryffindor."
Harry tilted his head at the blond boy. He really liked being the center of attention, that much was clear, even if it meant stepping on anybody else that spoke up. Still, at least he was transparent. He seemed to know a lot about the magical world and the people in it, so Harry reluctantly decided to be nice to him until he outlived this usefulness. He laughed at the blond boy's joke, quickly joined by the other three boys at the table, all equally eager to fit in with their new house-mates.
With the final sorting out of the way, the white-bearded wizard at the center of the head table rose to his feet and pointed his wand at his throat. "Welcome," he said, his voice easily reaching the students in the very back. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" With that, the old wizard sat back down at the table. Soon after, silver plates and cutlery appeared in front of each student, as well as a variety of dishes along the center of each table. Harry had never seen such a bountiful array of food. There were seafood dishes, roasts, veggies, and dishes he couldn't categorize. He spotted Malfoy poking at a giant mound of green gelatin. It was too tempting... Harry couldn't resist a small jab.
"Muggle dish – it's called gelatin. Try it, it's good" he teased. The blond boy pushed the dish away.
"Between this … gelatin … and the speech, I think Dumbledore's finally gone barmy"
"Wait, that was Dumbledore?" Harry interjected. "The same Dumbledore that defeated Grindelwald?"
"No, the one that invented chocolate frogs."
Harry frowned. For all he knew, Dumbledore could have invented the chocolate frogs. This being Draco, he had a feeling he was being made fun of. "Come on, share your insight with the poor and needy."
"Ok Potter, I'll do you this favor. Frankly, I think it's embarrassing for the heir of an ancient family to be so uninformed - it makes me look bad by association." Draco rattled off Dumbledore's pedigree, and a list of his accomplishments. The vast number of slights he wove into his narrative made it clear to Harry that Draco did not like Dumbledore very much. It didn't seem like the blond boy could develop such a hatred for somebody he had never even met on his own, so he was probably just parroting what somebody else had told him. Harry nodded attentively as he listened. This was too easy.
The meal continued for another thirty minutes. Theo and Draco took turns talking about their respective summer vacations, with the later making sure to emphasize how much more awesome his had been. Harry took a break from 'socializing', and seized the chance to sample a bit of every dish on the table. He drew a look of disdain from a blond girl sitting at the table as he ripped off a leg from the roast chicken in front of her. She looked like she could be Draco's sister. He was tempted to make the suggestion, but didn't feel like getting his head torn off. By the time Dumbledore gave his closing speech about the new list of contraband and the forest being off-limits, Harry was positively stuffed. As Dumbledore and the professors dispersed from the staff table, Harry saw an older girl - with a 'P' badge pinned to her lapel - approach their table.
"Hello boys and girls!" Draco rolled his eyes. The prefect placed her hands on her hips, pouting at Draco. "Hello lords and ladies! Is that better dear?" The table next to theirs – likely fifth or sixth years judging by their height – burst into laughter as they walked by. The blond boy turned bright pink, but did his best to muster a sneer. "As I was about to say, my name is Gemma Farley. I am one of the six Slytherin prefects, and I have won the dubious honor of supervising this year's first years, which would be the lot of you." Her face swept the group, smiling in turn at each of the ten children before her.
"The first order of business will be to show you to your quarters, so follow me please." The first years stood up from their table and lined up behind the prefect. They made their way out of the great hall, and down a smaller corridor. Gemma led them through several hallways and down a few flights of winding stairs. Halfway through their journey, they ran into a fashionably dressed ghost – fashionable for a thousand years ago at least. The front of his lacy shirt was covered in ghostly blood.
"Good evening, Ms. Farley," he intoned, bowing in her direction.
"Good evening, Barron. I'd like you to meet the new first years"
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen" the Barron added, giving them a translucent smile. Draco perked up slightly. "If you ever need some advice, I can always make some time. I fact, I have all the time in the world," the ghost chuckled, waving bloody gloved hand before drifting through a nearby wall. Gemma continued walking, with the rest of the first years in tow. Eventually, they reached what Gemma described as the dungeons. She explained to the group that they would also be having their potions classes here, pointing at an empty classroom as they passed it, but cautioned about wandering too far into the depths of the winding stone halls until they learned their way around. Eventually, she stopped before a nondescript stone wall.
"This is the entry to the Slytherin common room"
"I don't see anything here," Goyle muttered.
"That's because it's hidden, silly" she replied sweetly. "The current password is 'runespoor,' and you are not to share it with anybody outside the house. In fact, don't share it with anybody at all. Any Slytherin that wishes to know the password can find it written on the arch above the inner side of the entrance. The new passwords will be written two days before a change goes into effect." With that, Gemma tapped the stone wall with her wand, saying "runespoor."
A segment of wall vanished before their eyes, revealing a room half the size of the great hall. On three sides, the walls were a dark gray, lined with moving tapestries of various people. On the fourth side, a crystal wall separated the room from a seeming endless expanse of black water. It was impossible to see beyond five meters, but every few seconds a fish or two swam into view. Leather sofas were scattered throughout the room. Some of them were upholstered with reptile skin, which struck Harry as wildly impractical. Two large fireplaces stood on either ends of the chamber, and the floor was hewn from dark granite.
Gemma steered the group towards a pair of doors. "This door leads to the girl's quarters, and that one to the boy's. Each of you has been assigned your own room – your trunks are already waiting inside. You are encouraged to lock your doors through magical means so long as you avoid anything particularly vicious – not that any of you firsties could pull something like that off. Also, it goes without saying that boys are not allowed in the girl's rooms and vica versa. Any questions?"
The first years shook their heads. Harry had a few he wanted to ask, but he didn't want Gemma to know how uninformed he was.
"Ok then. You may go look at your rooms. Be back here in half an hour – our head of house would like to formally welcome you." The students split into two groups and entered their respective dormitories. The inside of the boy's dormitory was a large corridor with several small ones branching off from it. The smaller corridors were lined with doors to individual rooms. Draco knew exactly which corridor belonged to the first years – as he loudly proclaimed, the Malfoy's had been Slytherins for generations. Harry found his door near the end of said corridor. He pushed it open, and was pleasantly surprised. It was a bit spartan, but there was more space than in his bedroom at the Dursley's, and the furniture looked sturdy enough.
Harry got to unpacking his meager possessions. It didn't take very long at all. Half an hour later, he made his way back to the common room. Some of the first years were already there, and the rest slowly trickled in. Harry was curious who their head of house would be, and more importantly, what he had to say. His curiosity was sated when a familiar figure stormed in.