Harry amidst the Vaults of Stone
Chapter 18
Harry realised the other six people in the compartment were staring at the false flames still dancing in his hand, so he let them vanish, and glanced around at faces, thinking he might have done something wrong.
Neville looked out of his depth. Padma was considering his open palm. Nott had gone back to staring out the window. Blaise seemed to be enjoying some private joke. Ron was gawping.
Hermione ...was asking, in a small, trembling voice: "Am I going to be okay? As a muggleborn? Oh, I knew I wouldn't be good enough for Hogwarts! That beastly boy seemed so sure-"
"Professor Flitwick tells me that my mother was muggleborn and was the best Charms student he ever knew," Harry said quietly to her. He was trying to think of something to reassure her further when Ron asked loudly, "So what's your favourite Quidditch team, Harry? Mine's the Cannons, I just know their luck's going to turn around this year. You reckon you'll get on a team at school?"
Harry frowned at the trampling of the girl's obviously deep-seated worries.
"I've never played Quidditch or seen it played, and don't particularly want to," he said, more sharply than he usually might have. "I read part of a book about it, and can't see the point. It results in nothing lasting, nothing of worth. It's probably not much good for exercise. And I can imagine a hundred things I'd rather do for entertainment."
"You- what- I- I don't believe it! Quidditch is the best game in the world!" Ron said angrily. "You can't say things like that!"
Harry shrugged. "If you enjoy watching burly men swoop around on hard rods, touching balls to shafts and beating things and chasing each other's tails, that's fine. It's not my concern, yes? Yes."
"You're weird," Ron said shortly. He stood and left without another word.
Padma was having an inexplicable fit of giggles, and although Theodore still appeared to be ignoring them in favour of the view out the window, he was smiling thinly.
"Ah, glorious room," said Blaise happily as the door slammed. "Move over again, Harry." Blaise sprawled his legs out on the seat. "Capital. That's three for three – it seems you have quite a knack for offending people. Maybe you should make use of it to clear everyone else out so we get a whole row of seats each?"
"I like Quidditch, but I'm not looking forward to riding a broomstick," Neville said glumly, staring at his feet. "I'll probably manage to break it or something."
"I got a bit sick at first when I was on a flying carpet," Harry said. "I'm not used to so much... sky, I suppose. After living in the tunnels."
"Oh yes... goblins live in holes in the ground, don't they? I didn't think of that." Padma stared closely at Harry. "It makes sense, though. You're almost as pale as that Malfoy boy."
"I'd be completely white, not just pale, if I didn't take a nutrient potion," Harry said, deciding to ignore the phrase 'holes in the ground'. "Or more likely completely dead. Humans apparently can't live without sunlight." Then he grinned widely. "Hmmm, I suppose I don't have to drink it any more. Great!"
"It must have tasted pretty bad, huh?" Neville commiserated. "When I broke m-my ankle the first time, I had to drink some really vile stuff."
"Yes. This was like... moth grubs and raw chestnuts."
"Um. You don't really know what moth grubs taste like, do you?"
Once the commotion and cries of disgust had died down, Harry noticed Hermione Granger was still looking downcast.
"Hermione." He caught her attention. "You will do well, assuming you strive. You said you tried some spells and they worked, yes? There will probably be a number of people in the same situation as you. And they probably won't even have read all their textbooks."
Padma blinked. "Even I haven't read all the textbooks. We only got them a month ago, and I know for a fact that my sister hasn't opened a single one."
"I have been led to believe that textbooks exist," Blaise drawled, "and I remember a certain number of strange, rectangular objects being packed into my trunk, but I certainly couldn't tell you what they actually were. I only noted in passing that I will not be lacking for fire-lighters."
Harry furrowed his brow. "Really? You haven't read anything? Do you not know any magic, then?"
Blaise looked amused. "Well, my sister – half-sister, really – tried to teach me a bunch of spells. The problem is, none of them were really exciting enough for me to remember. Oh, she hounds me terribly about that, but it's just not in my nature to do things that are boring." He drew his wand, and coughed into his fist. "For your edification, I shall attempt... what was it called? Eringya's Surprising Bouquet, I think."
He twiddled his wand over his closed left hand, and pronounced the incantation. His hesitant rising intonation made it sound like a question. Whatever the spell was meant to do, it failed spectacularly, leaving his hand holding a bunch of charred stems, which quickly dissolved into ash.
Theodore applauded: two slow claps.
"It's not very good, is it?" Hermione said primly.
"It failed, Ms Granger." Blaise rolled his eyes.
"If that's a temporary fixed-form conjuration spell, and it looks like it should be, the textbook says that you need to start with a twirl of your wand, not a wiggle." She demonstrated with her own wand. "And say the words much more firmly."
Blaise sighed, and repeated the charm. This time a wilted thistle, a rotten mushroom and some sort of weedy surface flower appeared in his left hand. He quickly dropped them, but they turned to ash before they hit the floor. The swarthy boy looked ruefully down at the mess.
"As amusing as this is, I believe I shall turn to my next trick: Scolorid's Scintillating Scribbling," Blaise said doubtfully. He murmured some words, holding his wand between thumb and forefinger, and traced it through the air. The wand left a faint yellow glowing streak. The corner of his mouth turned up, and he quickly scribbled his initials. The letters flared in thin air, fading away almost before he had finished.
Theodore applauded again, this time adding a third slow clap for good measure.
"Feel better?" Blaise asked Hermione in dry tones.
She nodded. "I managed to cast a charm at home from the Grade Two spellbook, so I suppose so, yes."
"Can you show us?" Harry asked.
She frowned. "Well, I don't have a cabbage here. The spell is Brassica Oleracea Ambulata, but conjuring a cabbage and holding it in existence for long enough to make it follow you around would be very advanced magic."
"Cabbage." Harry thought carefully, ignoring Padma's undignified snort. "That's a surface vegetable, right?"
Surprised faces nodded at him.
"I... see. Why would you want to make a cabbage follow you around?"
"Oh, I don't know," Hermione huffed. "There was a whole section of the second-year volume dedicated to making fruits and vegetables do strange things – sing and dance and clap their hands, and so on."
"Clap their hands," repeated Blaise weakly.
"Something like that. Fine, then." Hermione raised her wand. "This is the Luminescent Companion spell from Woddeley's book, which Professor McGonagall recommended when she took me to Diagon Alley."
She cleared her throat and said carefully, "Igniti amicum." A tiny, faint blue light buzzed out of her wand, orbitted her head three times, gibbered strangely, and disappeared.
This exhibit garnered another three claps from Theodore.
"Is that what it is meant to do?" Harry asked carefully.
"Yes... I can't sustain it for very long, it's meant to provide light for a few minutes, but I think I just need more practise."
"Probably." Padma nodded. "It may be something like this one, which is the first charm I learned from my mother, more than a year ago. When I started, I didn't get any cherry blossoms at all and I was too tired to try again that day."
With this cryptic remark, she drew her wand, which she had tucked into her topknot after conjuring butterflies earlier, and raised it above her head with eyes closed.
"Fusce flores floruit." Hermione leaned away from the other girl in surprise as delicate pink and orange flames sprouted around her and danced in intricate patterns. Flower petals were cascading from the tip of her wand and vanishing into the flames. After a few seconds, Padma lowered her wand.
Theodore gave her five claps, quite fast. It sounded almost genuine.
"Well done," said Blaise, then turned to the weedy boy next to him. "Maybe you should spend less time with the sarcastic applause and more time showing us what you can do?"
Theodore scowled. "Did I say I had learned any magic?"
"You've been acting quite the hypocrite if you haven't."
The boy shook his head and drew a rather stubby white wand from his sleeve. "Frigida grisald tactus," he incanted quietly.
He slid the wand back into his sleeve. Blaise stared at him in amusement. "And what did that dyeauaaargh!"
Theodore had reached over and grabbed his wrist briefly.
Blaise jerked back from the boy's grasp with a deep shudder, breathing deeply. Beads of sweat had appeared on his face, and he immediately examined the pale mark that had appeared on his arm. "Merlin's nipples, man! What-" he coughed, and regained his composure. "Where did you learn that?"
Theodore scowled and shrugged, turning back to the window.
Harry watched the pale patch on Blaise's wrist begin to fade away. "What did it actually do?"
"His hand... it was so cold. So unnaturally cold. Like... I can't even describe it."
Padma snorted. "Cold? You poor thing. What about you, Harry?"
Harry cocked his head, wondering what to show them. Then he rummaged in his pockets until he found the charcoal he had been drawing with that morning, and slid his wand out of his sleeve.
"Mutum ullus."
The charcoal shard turned crystalline underneath his wand, and then slowly formed itself into a perfect sphere of quartz the size of a large marble.
Harry paused for breath and cast the spell again. "Mutum ullus."
The sphere reformed slowly into a particularly interesting burrowing insect whose image had been hovering in his mind all day. The girls made noises of disgust, so he cast the spell a third time, trying for something a little more difficult.
The insect darkened as it transformed, becoming a copper butterfly. It looked similar to those Hermione and Padma had been making earlier, but solid and completely inert. Harry tucked his wand back into the loop in his sleeve and examined it for flaws.
Hermione reached out hesitantly, and took it when he nodded. "That's amazing. It's not turning back, either. That must have been a very strong transfiguration, Harry."
"It should last for five minutes at least. Copper is tricky, though. If I'd left it as quartz it would stay for an hour or more, but it would be very brittle."
"An hour? The books don't expect any transfiguration to last that long at our level."
Harry shrugged, and turned to look at Neville, wondering what spells the last member of their impromptu group had learned. Neville was biting his lip, and his wand was not in evidence.
"I- I never learned any magic at all," he whispered, apparently on the brink of tears. "My Gran h-h-had me tutored in everything else, but they never thought I was g-good enough to start learning before Hogwarts. I only just got given a wand. I'm not going to be any good at all."
There was a short silence. Blaise seemed about to say something, but then leaned back and just regarded Neville from beneath half-closed eyes.
"Neville, take out your wand," said Harry firmly. "Hold it like this."
He held the position until Neville had wiped his nose on his sleeve, located his wand, and raised it. "Now focus your attention on the wand tip. Hold it steady as you can. We're going to learn the whistle charm. The incantation is barba – that's two beats for bar, pronouncing the r sound, and then one beat for ba. It should sound like this..."
Half an hour later, everybody but Theodore applauded when Neville first managed to produce a shrill note with the charm. Harry relaxed a little and left him to practise. There was something preying on his mind: what had Boris Scintillion dropped into his pocket that morning?
He took care to remove the packet surreptitiously, while Blaise, Padma and Hermione were busy discussing what their Hogwarts classes might be like. After all, a cursebreaker in the service of goblins might have given him anything.
As it turned out, it was a deck of cards taped shut with dull black tape.
"Oh, Exploding Snap?" asked Blaise, plucking it from his hands and raising his eyebrows. "Usually it's a pretty tame game, but this isn't a licensed deck, there's no stamp. Cool. Did you get somebody to charge it for you illegally, or is it just a really old pack, from before the regulations?"
"What," said Harry carefully, "Is Exploding Snap?"
Hermione and Padma both shrugged at him. Blaise's eyes widened for a moment before he suddenly grinned. "Time for a hands-on lesson, I think."
"This is a truly nonsensical game."
"Said the person with the lowest score."
"No, really," Harry said. "There's no point to it at - squonk-buggering tunnel collapse!" he finished in Gobbledegook as the card under his hand suddenly glowed with heat.
He had time to cover his face, and then the blast burned all the hairs off his forearms. He patted his scalp to make sure there weren't any stray embers.
"That-" he jabbed a finger, "that is exactly what I am talking about."
"Nobody likes a sore loser, Harry," said Padma sweetly, dealing herself three more cards from where she sat on the floor. Nott had remained sitting at the window opposite Neville, whose face was still glowing from having managed to cast his first spell with relative ease. The other four were on the compartment floor, with the deck of cards sitting in the middle of what was promising to be a permanent burn mark on the carpet. Blaise had his legs hooked up on one of the seats in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position. Hermione was holding her cards dangerously close to her face.
She dropped them all, causing a muted explosion, when the compartment door clattered open.
"Oh! G'morning there! I was just out seeking adventure and heard the bangs and whistles." A heavily-built brunette girl stood in the doorway, wand dangling from one hand. She was wearing shorts, and Harry took in her scabbed knees and filthy shoes with what he imagined was roughly the same expression as her own, as she took in his singed face and famous scar.
Fortunately for his mood, she declined to comment on the latter, instead exclaiming: "Oooh! Exploding snap! Deal me in?"
"Very well." Harry stood up and moved to one of the seats. "Good timing, since I believe I just lost."
"Yes, and quite thoroughly," drawled Blaise, as the new girl sat down in Harry's place without another glance at him. "I am Blaise, these two ladies are Hermione and Padma, the crispy-robed lad you just replaced is Harry, the noisy chap in the corner there is Neville, and the dour little one opposite him who's glaring at me now that I've drawn attention to him, sulky oik that he is, is Theodore."
"Jan." She accepted her cards with apparent glee. "Jan Runcorn, and fair warning, if you try to call me 'Janet' I'll skin you alive."
"...If you say so." Blaise looked disturbed.
Padma just snorted behind her cards. "Can't skin be magically regrown?"
Hermione looked thoughtful. "You're going to end up losing some anyway if that's a pair of threes you've got lying in wait."
Padma tilted her cards up to her face. "Cheater."
Harry listened to them talk about themselves, while Padma played out a game plan that apparently baffled even the veteran Snap player, Blaise.
Jan was from a wizarding family, but hadn't learned any magic as her parents didn't let her practise. In fact, they had kept a close eye on her ever since she used her mother's wand to grow an extra head on the cat. But they hadn't found out that she was sneaking down to the kitchen a few nights a week to 'practise potions'.
"...and long story short, I'm on lung-scouring and capillary-growing elixirs for the next year or so," she added cheerily, throwing down a single card. Blaise stared at it, back up at her, and bowed gracefully out of the game.
Shortly after, Jan lost when she set off a cascade of detonations in an otherwise good hand, but then Padma beat Hermione to a standstill, amassing most of the rest of the pack of cards in the process.
"You're an old hand, then?" Blaise asked, scrubbing at a patch of soot on his leg.
"No, I've never played before."
"Really?" Jan's eyes boggled. "More power to your hand, then. It's a cracking good pack, too. Whose is it?"
"Mine," Harry said, looking up. He had absconded with one of the cards earlier and was poking at it with his wand, trying to see how it worked. So far he had only made it char at the edges.
"Harry, right?" Jan grinned. "And it's either Harry Potter or his twin brother of the same name, I'm guessing from that scar. Good show, that. Two of my uncles were killed by You Know Who's followers, trying to protect my family home."
"I... I'm sorry. Did it work?" was all Harry could think to ask.
"Nah. They burned it to cinders, but it gave my aunt time to get out with me and my cousin, so that's something. And my dad took one of them down a few months later. I've got his ear to prove it. In a jar." This was all delivered in the same cheerful tone.
Theodore gave a tiny cough that sounded like "Gryffindor."
The thickset girl seemed to pick up on it. "Prob'ly. Most of my family have been, except my aunt who went to Beauxbatons, and a few Australians on my mom's side. What Houses are you lot going to get Sorted into? You are all first years too, right?"
"I'm hoping for Gryffindor too," Hermione said excitedly, "or maybe Ravenclaw. I don't know how it's done, but Professor McGonagall said they always Sort fairly. Hogwarts: A History mentions the Hat of Gryffindor but doesn't really explain how the ceremony works. Do you think we have to pull a rabbit out of it?"
"Professor Flitwick-" Harry began, but had to wait for Blaise to stop laughing. "Professor Flitwick said that Houses were very important, and told me what each of them valued, but wouldn't answer my questions about the Sorting. I think it's meant to be a secret."
"That's what my dad said," agreed Jan.
Blaise smirked. "I know how it's done. I wrested the secret from my brother for the grand sum of ten Sickles."
"Oh, tell us?" Padma asked.
"I'll tell you..." he looked directly at Harry. "If you tell us what it was really like to grow up with goblins."
Harry frowned. "I can't tell you everything, you know. There's secrets to protect. I'm magically bound."
"A magic oath? I wouldn't want that hanging over my head. Well, tell what you can, then. I definitely want to hear a story like this, my life is far too lacking in entertainment."
"Fine. But tell us about the Sorting first, yes?"
Blaise cleared his throat, looking around to make sure he had everyone's attention. "The Hat of Gryffindor is an ancient artefact, enchanted by Godric with a portion of his wisdom and charisma. A student only has to put it on, and the Hat will read their mind and find what House they are most suited to."
"Creepy," Padma muttered.
"So it'll be able to see what you really think. I'd imagine it partly depends what you want out of school," Blaise finished, swinging his knees up until he was taking up most of the seat. Harry pushed the boy's shiny black shoes away from his face. "Personally, I'm just looking for anything to keep me from boredom."
"If I think about brave things while I'm wearing it, do you think that will influence it? I hope it puts me in Gryffindor, anyway," Hermione said. "Like Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall."
"And Ambrosine the Ambiguous. Oh, and Sirius Black," Padma noted.
"Wait, I know that name. Yeah, my dad said he was Gryffindor to the bones," Jan said into the silence. "What a bastard, eh? Right, Harry?"
Hermione's eyes slid to Harry and then away again. "I... read about Sirius Black in Modern Magical History. I don't want to be like him. But Professor McGonagall hinted I should be in Gryffindor!" she wailed.
Harry snorted. "Professor Flitwick expects to see me in Ravenclaw, too, but I doubt he'll waste away and die if I'm not. I'd like Ravenclaw, of course. They have a private library in their common room, apparently."
Hermione's eyes seemed to light up at this.
Padma shook her head. "Reading! Is that all you're interested in? Better than Hufflepuff, I suppose."
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," Neville said gloomily. "My Gran's going to be so disappointed. She w-wants me in Gryffindor like my... my dad," he finished quietly.
"Who cares what other people want? And I am quite sure you would do well in Hufflepuff, Neville. Consider how hard you toiled to get that charm working." Harry smiled viciously. "Actually, I would rather like to be in Hufflepuff, myself. I don't want to be surrounded by lazy people."
Neville stuttered something.
Padma blinked. "If you say so, Harry. I'm shooting for Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw. Anything but Gryffindor, anyway." She glanced around. "What about you, Theodore?"
The thin boy turned away from the window. "Slytherin," he said shortly, then turned back again.
"Chatty," said Blaise with amusement.
"I suppose you are hoping for Gryffindor, Blaise, since you only care for excitement and adventure and really wild things?"
"I care for amusement, Miss Patil," the boy corrected, looking annoyed. "Exploding Snap and tales about goblins are one thing. Peril, uncouthness and general prig-headedness are quite another. I certainly do not want to risk life and limb on any foolish Gryffindor adventures. That would be distinctly un-amusing."
Hermione looked scandalised at the idea of dangerous adventures. "It's a school! What could possibly happen?"
"It's a school of magic. What possibly couldn't? Anyway, I don't think Gryffindor is in my nature. I'll enjoy any entertainment I can get, engineer it if necessary... but not make it."
Theodore mumbled something in the direction of the window.
"...And as Theodore so rightfully mutters, some of my relatives would slaughter me for Crup food if I didn't get into Slytherin. Particularly my mother."
"That would be a shame," Padma said with a straight face.
"She's a mad bitch," Blaise said, without any particular inflection. "Ambitious as anything, though."
"Language!" Hermione gasped. Blaise just looked at her for a long moment with unreadable dark eyes, then turned to Harry.
"And now, I think you owe us a life story."
Harry shared what he could about Badluk and Sibilig and his goblin friends and life in Underfoot. He was compelled to bite his own tongue once when he infringed on secrets of the Brotherhood. That painful reminder prevented him doing it again, but there was still enough to keep him amused at the looks of amazement on faces of the other new students. Even Theodore asked a few pertinent questions.
Shortly after that a witch came around with a trolley of food, and Harry took the opportunity to expand his palate of wizarding food, buying enough for everyone to try. He couldn't get the hang of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, though, and gave up after five minutes of Blaise's mockery.
The rest of the food appeared to be actual... well, food. Although it was rather strange. The Cauldron Cakes were far too sweet for him. The Soylent Greenola bars were strange and gritty. Harry refused to even try an Every Flavour Bean after Neville sampled an orange-brown one and immediately ran for the bathrooms.
The Chocolate Frogs came with two parts: a confectionery frog, which Harry used an unweaving charm on with great interest until it unexpectedly melted, and a card with facts about the wizard Ptolemy. He compared the card to a Exploding Snap card under a variety of goblin spells, trying to ignore Blaise's loud speech about pointless academics and foolish half-cooked experimentation and bizarre, possibly genetic, inabilities to know what was interesting and what was not.
The rest of the journey was idled away, chatting. Padma taught Harry the butterfly spell, tranquilla illusionari amplexus décora. He was annoyed that it took him much longer than Hermione to master it, and he couldn't keep his concentration on many of the glamour butterflies before the earlier ones started to fade. Well, it was something to work on.
The Exploding Snap deck which Mr Scintillion had dropped in Harry's pocket was exhausted – only about two thirds of the cards remained, and those apparently needed time to recharge. Nobody took Jan up on her offers of an arm-wrestling tournament, so the girl with the skinned knees left to seek excitement elsewhere.
"A lady after your own heart," Padma joked to Blaise.
He sniffed. "Oh, please. I've never met anyone so... unrefined."
It took a while, but Harry managed to get a partial explanation of that expression out of Padma and Hermione. He was still a little confused; the heart was only an organ for pumping blood around the body, after all.
As the sun sank towards the horizon, Theodore left to find a bathroom, and came back changed into his Hogwarts robes, the strange grey tailcoat he had been wearing now folded neatly over his arm.
"I would suggest you do the same," he said, going back to his seat at the window.
Padma took out her robes, which were uppermost in her trunk, and pulled them on immediately. Blaise complained that he and Neville would have to take off at least an outer layer each, and that it simply wouldn't do to show their elbows with ladies present, and even if it could be done, it shouldn't be.
Hermione and Harry, already in their robes, shrugged, and found themselves hurried out into the corridor alongside Padma. Harry wasn't sure why Theodore was allowed to stay while the other two changed, but it might just have been too much effort for Blaise to throw him out too.
As the sky changed from dark blue to purple, the train began to slow. A tinny, disembodied voice informed them that they were approaching Hogwarts, and asked that they leave their luggage on the train, as it would be taken to the school separately.
Harry hesitated – his staff was in his shrunken trunk – but it wasn't as if he could take it in his pocket, and everyone was in the same situation. And what a situation... it suddenly seemed so much more terrifying and horrible than he had thought before. A distinct cold touched his heart, and he wondered why he was only beginning to feel nervous at this late stage. His eyes tracked a grey speck hovering over a lake far in the distance, and a truly horrid sensation grew within him, but it soon passed as the distant figure swooped away. He hoped that hadn't been what he thought it was.
They pulled into a station – "Hogsmeade," Blaise informed them – and spilled out onto the strange asymmetric cobblestones of the small platform, along with an excited crowd. The children poured around a trio of red-robed aurors like a stream around a boulder. The older students began moving towards a row of lit carriages in the distance, while a huge shape moved up the train, shouting hoarsely.
"Firs' years this way! Firs' years, come on now, over 'ere!"
Harry was still feeling ill-at-ease from seeing the spectre above the lake, and now felt a strange shudder go through him as he recognised this man. Rubeus Hagrid, probably half-giant, he recalled. He had fought below Gringotts, and had fought bravely but failed. A few memories of that day passed through Harry's mind, and he clenched his hands into fists.
The huge wizard was looking rather tired as he waded through the crowd in his greatcoat. There were dark rings under his eyes, but his bushy eyebrows drew together into a smile as he saw their little cluster.
"Firs' years! Young Harry Potter, right? Recognise yer! Well, over this way, follow me! Any more firs' years?"
The crowd of them followed Hagrid down a narrow, stony path, flanked on one side by an auror who marched next to a bright silver animal. It was strangely comforting to look upon the creature, and after a while Harry realised it must be a Patronus, the spell used to control Dementors.
He tugged on Blaise's sleeve. "What sort of animal is that?" he asked, jerking his thumb. The mammal looked vaguely familiar.
Blaise stopped in his tracks, making Harry bump into him. "What? You've never seen- oh. Oh, of course you've never seen a cow before." The boy shook his head and kept moving.
Harry stumbled once before he remembered to turn on the darksight charm on his glasses. Things swam into focus, and Hagrid's hurricane lantern ahead of them became painfully bright. All around were dense trees, and they were walking in the middle of a mob of young students, most looking frightened but a few whispering to each other. Harry blinked, looking back and forth until he realised he was seeing Padma in front of Blaise and someone who must be her twin sister on the other side of the track.
Just behind him was a thin boy with long hair and glasses, who smiled back when he saw Harry staring around. "Exciting, huh? I'm Terry."
"Harry," Harry replied, walking backwards for a few steps so that he could shake hands. His folly was rewarded when he tripped over a large rock, and several people stumbled into them before Terry had helped him up, obviously trying not to laugh.
"Yes, yes, alright," Harry said.
"Have you never walked on loose stones before? My brother used to take me hiking all the time. I hated it, of course..."
"I've walked on loose stones before," Harry confirmed dryly. Before he could speak more, Hagrid called back over his shoulder to the column of first years.
"We'll be comin' up ter Hogwarts soon. Yeh'll get yer firs' glimpse o' it in just a sec."
They rounded a corner, and there was a muted cry of "Oooooh!" from the students. After a moment, Terry muttered "It's only a model" under his breath, and grinned to himself.
Harry ignored the strange remark, looking up at Hogwarts. It was impressive, he had to admit. They stood on the edge of a vast lake, and the castle stretched above them, wider than a cavern block in Underfoot. The highest towers would have stretched halfway to the ceiling of Main Cavern, and that was high.
Then Hagrid was calling, "There's the boats, in yer go! No more than four to a boat, mind!"
Harry hurried forward beside the long-haired Terry, looking about for his friends. He had lost them when he stumbled, and they were nowhere in sight. Harry climbed into the closest of the small craft. A girl he didn't know was sitting at the front, staring up at the stars. Terry clambered after him, followed by a short, solid boy with close-cropped hair, who smiled nervously at each of them in turn.
"Alright you lot, everyone in a boat?" shouted Hagrid from the boat next to Harry. There was a resounding silence.
"Right so." He raised a pink umbrella which Harry recognised, looked at it blankly for a moment, then yelled "For'ard! Steady as she goes!"
The fleet of boats immediately began to scud across the still, dark surface of the lake. Harry gripped the side, breathing little clouds of huff and trying not to imagine how deep and cold it would be if he fell in. Of course, if there really were merpeople in there, he might be able to remember how to formulate a request for help before he drowned...
"Wayne Hopkins," the last boy in said, breaking into his thoughts.
Harry blinked and automatically offered his arm to clasp, quickly remembering himself and turning it into a proper Wizarding handshake. "Harry Potter."
The boy made a small noise of surprise. "Oh... nice to meet you."
"Terry Boot," added the long-haired boy, and then the girl at the front looked down at them. "Lilith Moon." She immediately turned to gaze back up at the stars and the castle. "Beautiful, right?"
"Yeah," Terry mumbled.
"Looking forward to Hogwarts?" the stocky Wayne asked, obviously for want of anything better to say.
"Sure. Maybe I'll learn how to properly deconstruct a chocolate frog. The spells on it looked interesting."
The other boy looked at Harry strangely, perhaps wondering if he was joking. "If you do," he said at last, "Let me know. My uncle's an artisan and a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, he could get us started in our own line of products. Chocolate ...lizards, or something. No, maybe birds, bats, something that flies."
Harry was slightly surprised to hear the boy taking the idea seriously. "Well, at least they would sell well, if word got round that I was involved. Apparently my forehead is something of a novelty."
"Yeah, I wasn't going to ask," Terry said, leaning across, "but what's up with that? Fall over a particularly sharp rock or something?"
Wayne frowned. "Huh. You're muggleborn?"
"Er, that means my parents aren't magical, right? Yeah," Terry said. "What if I am?"
"This is Harry Potter," Wayne replied, moonlight flickering across his face as a cloud passed overhead. "He's kind of a celebrity in the wizarding world. Most people know about him, see."
Harry turned away, listening glumly as a relative stranger began to tell another relative stranger the usual story. He watched the cliff get closer and closer, until he began to worry that they were actually going to crash into it.
Then, "Get yer heads down or get spilled out," Hagrid yelled, and everybody ducked. The boats passed through a curtain of trailing vegetation and through a tunnel. Harry's glasses picked out the edges of shining ceramic tiles all along it in extremely complex tessellating patterns. He'd have to come back here on a raft or something to sketch them. In daylight, preferably.
Then the boats grounded themselves on a gravel slope in a massive underground harbour, and the students spilled out.
"Anyway, I think we'd be on to a winner if we came up with a Frog Alternative," Wayne continued to ramble as he slogged up the slope behind Harry, "even if it was only for the local market. After all, the Chocolate Frog Company's been the biggest confectioner in Europe for years, ever since they merged with Whizzo Company and ended their Crunchy Frog line."
"Yes? What was that?"
The group began to trudge up a winding flight of stone steps.
"Well, it was a frog, coated in chocolate. Crunchy because it had bones in it."
"Strange," said Harry non-committally. It was weird that you'd leave bones in a frog. Unless you needed more calcium? Maybe they were just too fiddly to take out.
"And then there was the Ram's Bladder Cup, and – ugh – the Cherry Fondue. Oh, and the Spring Surprise, they actually got prosecuted for that one."
Harry glanced across at Wayne. "You're hoping for Ravenclaw, I take it?"
"Oh, no, I don't know. I just have a lot of family in various businesses, so I know a little bit about a lot of stuff. I'm a practical kind of chap, really, but wherever they decide to put me is fine. Just excited to finally be here, you know?"
They crossed a patch of wet grass, back under the stars for a moment, and then halted on a stone platform in front of wide double doors. Harry, feeling uneasy at the wide-open space, removed the darksight from his spectacles and wandered through the throng until he found Blaise and Neville again. Terry and Wayne trailed after him, now talking together excitedly about muggle candy.
Hagrid strode to the front, stared around at the group of first years, and then knocked thunderously on the doors. On the second stroke, they opened, and a severe-looking witch wearing a robe with a pattern of vines stepped through.
Hagrid nodded to her. "Got the firs' years 'ere, Pr'fessor McGonagall."
"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take them from here." The witch gave the huge man a piercing look. "I wouldn't worry about the Feast. Go back to bed, you still look quite ill."
"I might do that, an' thanks, Pr'fesser."
As Hagrid stumbled off, Professor McGonagall stared out at the night sky for a few seconds, and then brought her gaze sharply down at the assembled students, who instinctively quietened.
"Welcome," she said, "to Hogwarts."
Author's notes:
→ This AU Harry is, of course, psychologically suited to one particular Hogwarts House; he was raised in a community whose values are strongly aligned with two of the others; there's also at least some basis for him going to the fourth. If you want to make any bets about his Sorting, feel free to leave a comment, but I already know exactly where he'll end up.