Hi to the people who are very kindly still reading!

I hope you're enjoying my interpretation of a young House, it's difficult to imagine what he would be like at age 11.

Thanks for reviews, they really motivate me.

Chapter 5

The first week of term at Hogwarts had been a fast blur for Greg.

Hogwarts was a lot bigger than Greg had imagined when he first laid his eyes on it. There were corridors, stairs and dungeons, and huge courtyards. Greg could never tell the difference between the different areas; the place was like a giant labyrinth. Owen was no better. Greg had hoped that because Owen was half-blood, he might know some way around the school, but that hope died when both boys hit another dead end on the way to charms.

Greg had slowly come to appreciate Owen as a friend; Owen liked reading books and often the one dragging him to the library. Owen even laughed at his jokes, which made Greg feel weird because most people just called his jokes rude or insulting.

Teachers at Hogwarts never cut any slack for lateness. Snape took pleasure in docking points from students who turned up late. Greg always noticed that Gryffindor lost the most points for lateness.

Potions were about as complicated as Greg thought it would be. The subject was all about timing and memory, and luckily for Greg he was good at both of them. Greg had tried asking Snape for some books on medical potions but the teacher never seemed to see his raised hand.

During the first lesson Snape had stormed into the underground classroom causing everyone to jump in their seats. The professor had then barked questions at random students, humiliating them if they got the wrong answer.

Greg was ordered to answer a question; what were the three main ingredients of a dreamless sleep potion? He shocked his class when he began to list them. Snape didn't say anything. Greg was annoyed seeing that the Slitherins were given ten points when they got an answer right.

Classes were always interesting for Greg whether it be charms or transfiguration; everyone subject was something new to learn and master. Teachers were nice enough to him; he recalled the first day of term when he had met his head of house, Professor Flitwick. The tiny charms teacher made him feel a sense of welcome into the house, which he hadn't experienced before.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner were always fun in the Great Hall. Owen had introduced Greg to some other students and it took Greg a while to relish that he was making friends. At dinner Greg and his new friends would discuss classes and quidditch and then chess but the conversation would always end with quidditch. Greg was never really into sport at home, something that would always annoy his father, but quidditch sounded like an amazing sport.

The Weasley twins were even spending some time with him during study breaks. The twins were always fun to talk to. Both boys always had a joke to say and a witty comment to add to any conversation. Greg enjoyed being around them, but sometimes needed his space from the boys as they did get on his nerves sometime with practical jokes.

Everything was purely amazing to Greg at Hogwarts. All except for one event early in the year when he had been label a "filthy mud blood" by some of the older and even younger Slitherins. A very large, evil looking Slitherin boy named Marcus Flint who was in his fourth year would constantly torment Greg when there were no teachers were around. He said that Greg should go home or even better, jump of the astronomy tower because no one wanted him around.

Only the Slitherins laughed with Flint when he made fun of Greg, but Greg noticed everyone in the Great Hall laughed when Flint's head shrunk to the size of a snitch at lunch time one day. Greg really did owe the Weasley twins for making the head-shrinking chocolate, the stuff they could do with an innocent looking chocolate bar was borderline genius.

Greg thought he himself had stolen the show when Flint left his book bag behind in potions one day and Greg was able to sneak the chocolate in without even Snape casting a glance at him.

Overall Hogwarts was quickly turning into Greg's home. He could barely remember the rituals he went through when living with John House. Night time was now filled with laughter as Greg sat with Owen and the rest of the first year Ravenclaw boys as they joked about how Flint should really double check his candy more often.

One night though instead of jokes a boy named William decided to tell stories. Greg wasn't really into this idea so instead of sitting around the fireplace in dressing gowns and slippers, Greg climbed into his bed with a book about Werewolves.

Owen hadn't thought twice and had joined the other boys. Before starting his stories William walked up to Greg as he was about to start reading the first chapter about the first bite.

"Come on mate, I've got some good stories," William was standing beside Greg's bed with a polite look on his face.

Greg sighed.

"Sorry William but what kind of Ravenclaws would we be if one of us didn't have our heads stuck in a book?" Greg said smugly hoping that house pride would work its magic on William.

"Ok Greg but I bet you join in when you hear the grand finale!"

William then darted to the fire place, jumped onto a chair and instantly started telling stories.

Greg just rolled his eyes and begun to read.

The sound of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' were starting to annoy Greg and slowly he found himself not reading his book anymore but listening to Williams's voice which would change to suit any character of his current story. After his last story about Merlin Greg ended he was half way across the room, his book long forgotten.

"I won't say I told you so if you take a seat near us," said William smartly.

Greg let a small smile form on his lips and he nudged himself next to Owen who just grinned at him.

"You look like an idiot," Greg said Owen.

"No you do," Owen replied.

"OK I've built everyone up for the grand finale," William declared victoriously, "I will now tell you the tale of the boy who lived!"

Every boy clapped exceptt Greg who was trying not to snigger at the name.

William stood up and pulled the hood of his dressing gown onto his head.

"Eleven years ago there was a powerful dark wizard, SO powerful that people were too afraid of him to even say his name. Even I shudder to think of saying his name."

Every eye was on William and Greg couldn't help but look at William who was standing in front of the fire causing a creepy shadow effect.

"This dark powerful wizard only wanted one thing, power, and to get this he killed many innocent people. It didn't matter who you were, the dark wizard would kill you without thinking twice if you stood in his way."

Greg had to admit William knew how to tell a story.

"One night eleven years ago the evil man, for a reason no one knows, searched for an innocent child. His name was Harry Potter; he was only one year old."

Greg, like Owen and everyone else, was paying close attention to William as he glided around the fire as he spoke.

"The wizard broke into the Potter house were the boy was. His Father stood strong but was no match for the incredibly powerful dark wizard; the father fell to floor with one simple spell from the wizard's wand, the killing curse!"

William took a deep breath and continued.

"Then after killing the father he went after the boy whose mother desperately tried to fight the dark wizard, but of course she was no match and she to fell to the floor dead from the same curse that killed her husband. The wizard then turned his wand to little Harry."

Everyone held their breath.

"The aim of his spell was perfect but little Harry did not die, no... the spell rebounded and killed 'he who must not be named', and all over the wizarding world people rejoiced and chanted the name of the boy who lived!"

Mad clapping erupted. Each boy let out a loud whoop.

"Well done Will! Best retelling I've ever heard, better than mums," said a boy nearest William.

"Thank you, thank you," said William taking dramatic bows as he did. Greg rolled his eyes, every boy was clapping and thumping William on the back acting like he was a king.

"Oh and I forgot the best part! Next year the boy who lives will be coming to Hogwarts!" shouted William jumping up and down on his bed causing his bedside table to fall to the ground making an extremely loud crashing noise.

Everyone froze for a second and then scattered to their own separate beds.

"Bloody hell," whispered Owen climbing into his bed which was next to Greg's.

"No one let William at the Chocolate Frogs before bed anymore."

Greg nodded his head before climbing into his own bed.

Sleep didn't take long as Greg had wanted to sleep ages ago.

Greg didn't know why but today had the feeling of being a miserable day. He had slowly made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast even though eating felt like the last thing he wanted to do.

He hadn't woken up quite right and everybody seemed to be pissing him off for no good reason. Even Owen who was probably a Greg House mood expert had kept his distance this morning seating himself with the other Ravenclaw boys, who kept giving Greg odd looks.

Greg couldn't understand why a Sunday morning could feel so terrible. After forcing some dry toast down his throat, Greg stood up and decided to visit Steve, his owl, who he had barely had time to check on since arriving at Hogwarts.

Greg walked out of the Great Hall so focused on his path to the owlery that he didn't even notice Snape staring at him, or even that Flint had also stood up from the Slitherin table.

All Greg House wanted to do was be as far away from people as possible.

Greg was walking down a deserted corridor when he suddenly felt strong hands shove him to the ground, his head hitting the concrete painfully.

"Well Well Well looky here ,the mudblood is all alone."

Greg didn't need to look up to know whose voice those words belonged to. Marcus Flint. Instead of answering back Greg lunged for his wand in his robe pocket. Greg ripped it out and the words of a spell he had only mastered last night died on his lips when Flint smashed his foot down onto his hand.

Greg felt his middle and index fingers crush together and it took all his will to keep the tears spill from his eyes.

Greg had learnt not to cry in the face of pain; it only made things worse.

"So mudblood, have you decided to leave yet?" asked Flint venomously as he picked up Greg's wand from his crushed hand.

"Not yet. Come on Flint, you would miss me too much, and I kinda wanna see you get pranked some more, it's pretty damn funny," replied Greg sarcastically.

That remark earned him a hard kick to the chest which left him spluttering for air. After a moment of deep breaths Greg forced himself to stand up, leaning heavily on the wall.

"For a pureblood you sure do beat people up the muggle way!" spat Greg, hoping to insult Flint's Slitherin blood pride.

Instead Flint let out a low deep laugh.

"Oh no, that beat up was just for me," he said as he walked threateningly towards Greg.

"But this is for a reason beyond my understanding, Stupefy!"

Greg didn't have time to dodge; the spell hit him squarely in the chest causing him to stumble backwards. The last thing Greg saw before unconsciousness was the flight of stairs he had been standing behind.

Today was just not a good day.