"…It was said that on that day on thousands of worlds across the Seven Systems and beyond, volcanoes erupted, seas parted and the universe wept. The destruction of the great evil had been stopped, but at the great cost of the immortals that had kept everything safe for the rest of them. Many individuals had died, but the sacrifice of the ancient ones, the one's that had protected the universe for so long, was one of great sorrow. The lonely god was left as a testament to their great love of the universe and its love of them." Harry spoke the rest of the story slowly, seeming to come out of a trance as he looked at Hermione before him.
As he had spoken about the meetings of the imperial society of immortal beings, she had shifted slightly and settled down in the middle of her bench staring into Harry's eyes. He didn't seem to notice throughout the telling of the thrilling tale, but she was fixated on him the entire time. What he also didn't realize was the fact that the compartment door was still open and a small crowd had gathered on either side of the doorway and filling the halls.
Prefects had been patrolling just at the beginning of the story and caught a few students loitering outside one of the compartments. Before they could ask what was going on they were entranced as well by the story of a long forgotten battle. Before too long word had spread that someone was telling a good story and the crowd had gathered, now at the end the prefects took control and herded the people away from the compartment and even closed the door on the two first years for them to gain some privacy after the long story.
"That was amazing, Harry." Hermione spoke in a soft voice, wiping her cheeks of a few stray tears that had appeared there. "Where did you learn such an amazing story?"
Harry brushed it off a little and tried to hide his own hurt at having to retell the story. He knew it well for it was told to him several times from at least two different points of view, but telling it to someone else was difficult. "Doesn't matter. My dad and mum used to tell me stories all the time of various creatures that were out there."
"Really?" Hermione bounced up and down on the bench eager to hear something else. "Maybe you should write a book, people would…." She was interrupted by the compartment door sliding open once more.
Harry stared at the blonde boy that were flanked by two large gorilla looking boys that someone seemed to have shaved down and stuffed into identical black robes. The boy seemed to carry himself with way too much arrogance for someone his own age, and Harry immediately thought the boy was a right ponce. The trio moved into the compartment slightly and stared disdainfully at the pair. For his part, Harry hadn't moved, simply giving the two a confused look while leaning forward to speak to Hermione.
"It's going up and down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment, are you him?" The blonde boy put on a satisfied sneer as if he had just discovered Atlantis and wasn't going to tell anyone about it.
"Harry Potter? Nope, doesn't ring a bell." Harry knew that his scar was already visible, but decided to see how hard he could push the boy before he would blow his top.
"Surely you know that you're famous for defeating the Dark Lord. My father always told me that you were growing up in some mansion spoiled on gold and silver platters." The voice drawled on and Harry had the distinct impression that the boy simply enjoyed hearing the sound of his own voice.
"Who? Nah, I grew up with my dad in a small blue box traveling around, never really had much use of gold and silver platters though." Harry tapped a finger on his chin in thoughtful reminiscence. "Although there was that time….but then again we were the ones on the platters." Seeing confused looks he smiled again. "Sorry, I seemed to have drifted off a little, you were saying?"
The boy looked upset that he was being ignored, but quickly hid it behind another sneer. The two boys on either side of him still hadn't said anything, but they didn't seem to have the real capacity for intelligent thought. Hermione was keeping quiet, stifling giggles as she watched Harry work the boy into a furious frenzy. She remembered what he had said to her before about language and it seemed to be backfiring a little on the new boy. Before anyone could open their mouths to speak again, however, the redhead, Ron Weasley, stepped quickly into the compartment and put himself between Harry and the blonde.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" His fists were clenched in rage and stared down the boy almost ready to hit him. "Slimy snakes like you aren't welcome here."
"Ah, a Weasley. Father told me all about your kind of wizard, poor and loving muggles. It's a pity to see a good pureblood family go to such a waste." The blonde seemed to enjoy taking potshots at the boy's family and only making him madder.
What followed was unintelligible to a few people that weren't familiar with long lengthy word arguments about blood purity and family origins. Harry grew tired within a few seconds of the two starting an argument about their individual families and settled back into his bench as he withdrew a red delicious apple from his pockets. He tossed one to Hermione across from him as he withdrew another from the seemingly flat pocket. Hermione stared at the apple for a second and then to the pocket it came out of, there hadn't been a large bulge where the apple would have come out of, and it didn't look big enough to fit one of the large things, let alone two. Deciding to keep a closer eye on this strange boy, she took a bite of the apple and turned to watch the growing argument of the two boys.
"Harry doesn't want you here." Ron finally resorted to saying, bringing the other two occupants of the compartment into the temper tantrums of the two boys.
"Has anyone asked me what I want?" Harry spoke slowly; tossing the now clean apple core out the window and watching it sail down the tracks and bouncing into nearby woods. "Why is it that you two hate one another so much and yet you've just met?"
"He's a Malfoy. Everyone knows that his family has always been supporters of the Dark Arts and his father was a known Death Eater for You-Know-Who during the last war." Ron sat smugly with his arms crossed leaning against the bench feeling as though this would end all arguments.
"And he's poor! My father has told me all about you poor people, and you half-bloods." He directed the last remark to Harry, although he seemed surprised when Harry made no outward show of emotion.
"Who are you people talking about? I didn't grow up here, so I really don't know who." Hermione stifled another giggle as she realized that no one had actually said who it was and it was a little silly of a moniker.
"What do you want you filthy little, mudblood?" The blonde sneered again staring at Hermione now, whom just looked confused for a second. This gave enough time for Harry and Ron to stand up, although the later was now reaching for his wand intending to hex the blonde.
"Come now, we can be civil. Let's see…Ron, you over by the bushy one." He winked to Hermione and she hides her blush slightly. "You and the two gorillas can sit by me."
"But Harry, he's a Malfoy." Ron whined as he sat down, the entire group now trying to arrange themselves in a semblance of order. Malfoy and his two bodyguards sat stiffly on the bench of Harry's side while Ron took up position glaring at Malfoy across the compartment.
"Wait, before you go off screaming about families, let me get a few things straight. You're mad at him because he's a Malfoy." He pointed to Ron and then moved to point to the said boy. "You're mad at him for being a Weasley, and this is the first time you've met?" The stunned, and yet still angry pair nodded as Harry continued. "And you're mad at her, because she's a muggle-born. Why?" Harry shook his head and sighed as he leaned against the window and watched all five companions in the compartment.
"Everyone knows that purebloods are much better. Magic shouldn't be tainted by bringing muggles into the mix." Malfoy drawled on, staring down at his nails as if the conversation was beneath him.
"Why?" Harry asked again, flipping his eyes between Weasley and Malfoy looking for an answer.
"My father says that all magical people should be treated equally, no matter what their blood." Ron stated pompously, almost as if he was trying to impress Harry, sticking out his chest just as he had done before.
"Ah ha! Now we're getting somewhere." Harry clapped his hands together. "You've both been raised to hate each other and are simply sprouting off the family doctrine. How do you really feel about muggle-borns though?" He directed the last question to Malfoy sitting near him. The blonde boy seemed taken aback for a second before he opened and closed his mouth and then stared at the floor. "Neither of you have a real opinion of your own; you're just saying what you've heard from others."
"But purebloods are better. I can trace my family back nineteen generations." Malfoy sat up straighter, determined to have the final say.
"And what about before that? A family name has to start somewhere and I highly doubt that the Malfoys have existed since time began." Harry asked. Only Hermione, sitting directly across from him could see a small golden glow start to emanate from his eyes. "Ah, now I see. In the 17th century the Weasleys and the Malfoys promised their first children to wed to one another to create a binding family contract between the two families. In 1647 with the birth of only boys to either line the decree was nullified, but the families wished to keep the binding of their families. Both broke the contract with the Malfoys moving their estate and refusing the Weasley's compensation of land, and the Weasleys taking away the faming properties given to the Malfoys." He shook his head as his eyes returned to the piercing green that were now staring down the pair of boys.
"How…?" Malfoy started and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter, purebloods are still better."
"My biological mother was a muggle-born and she was the brightest witch of her class. Maybe your dad knew her and was just jealous of the fact that she did better than him. Plus, do either of you really know what magic is?" At a shaking of their heads he saw that they were enraptured by him now and he could have said anything, but kept to the truth as he knew it. "Magic is a great force in this universe; an energy field created by all living things, that surrounds and penetrates living beings and binds the galaxy together." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermoine think it over and then give a very unladylike snort followed by a series of laughter that wouldn't stop.
"What's so funny, mudblood?" Malfoy sneered, but it didn't seem to have any effect on her laughter.
"Harry!" She continued to giggle, getting her laughter under control. The pair of children was getting odd looks from the purebloods, but didn't seem to want to ask the question.
"Anyway, the point is that Magic is a great force in the universe." Hermione snorted again, but Harry continued. "You say that purebloods are better, but why would that be true? If Magic is better in those that have always had it then why are there even things like muggle-borns. One theory is that magic is somewhat sentient and knowing that it would die out has chosen to pass on the gifts to those of muggle descent." Seeing the still vacant looks in the purebloods he sighed and shook his head. "Think about it, you two. Both of your parents are probably related by distant cousins, correct? If that continued on for several more generations you would be down to marrying siblings and then there wouldn't be any magic left in the world. The magical world needs muggle-borns and half-bloods to keep it sustainable."
"But they know nothing of our world, how can we let them simply waltz in and take it over? They're a plague that's taking away jobs from good pureblood families." Malfoy was still clinging onto his last hopes and dreams, but it seemed to be slipping away from him.
"And whose fault is that? There are very little books published on this sort of thing because no one wants to know about it. People are given jobs based on their performance and their skill set. If a pureblood doesn't get a job because they're lazy then it's their own fault. Statistically speaking, more muggle-borns leave the magical world after their formal education because it's so backwards."
"It is not! We're better than muggles." Malfoy jumped to his feet followed by his bodyguards all of whom were now brandishing wands. Harry seemed completely unconcerned, but Ron was already on his feet with his own wand.
"Again, why? Muggles have means of communicating over long distances instantaneously, wizards don't have that. They have the ability to transport large goods over great distances, and have even been to the moon. I'm sorry, but the magical community as a whole is woefully out of date." Harry sighed and picked up his book once more, intending to tune out the other occupants of the compartment. He kept his eyes on Hermione over the top of the page though hoping that she might stay with him.
In the end, Malfoy huffed and stormed out of the compartment a few minutes after Harry had ignored him trailed along by Thing one and Thing two. Ron, much to everyone's annoyance, decided to invite himself to stay in the compartment with Harry and Hermione, but didn't offer up any kind of conversation except to reiterate what he had already said about how bad Slytherins were and how Harry shouldn't associate himself with anyone from that house. Hiding the eye rolling that came with these statements; Harry stoutly ignored him until the compartment door slid open once more.
"Harry, there you are. I've been looking all over for you." Harry smiled as he put his book to the side and looked up to his first age appropriate friend. He had friends of course, but never one his own age given the large gap between himself and his adopted father.
"Hey, Daphne; come on in and sit down. Sorry I couldn't find you earlier, we were visited by some unfriendly people." Harry slid over and let the black haired girl sit next to him. Ron appeared that he was going to protest her involvement, but kept quiet, instead grumbling under his breath about slimy snakes.
"Yeah, I know, Malfoy is strutting around saying that he was talking to you and how you and he were the best of friends." She rolled her eyes and giggled a little as they all settled down and started talking.
The conversations between the four friends, three really, consisted of speculating about Hogwarts and a few other mundane things like how the summer had gone and their own family life. Harry offered very little up to the others about his home life simply saying that he moved around a lot. Ron kept trying to steer the conversation towards the houses and how evil Slytherin really was. At a pointed look from Harry though he quieted down and let the others to talk as the train made it's way up the Scottish countryside.
At the announcement that the train would be arriving at Hogsmeade station the two boys left the compartment to let the girls change into their robes and then they switched. The two girls seemed to be getting along very well and Harry liked the fact that he could talk to the pair of them like they had known each other all their lives. Ron unfortunately kept trying to interject on conversations and seemed more like the odd man out. When they had to board the boats to sail across the Black Lake, Hedwig already taking flight up towards the owlry, Ron pushed himself to the seat beside Harry just as they were starting off. Harry had a brief thought of pushing the annoying redhead over the side, but thought better of it.
As the students were being led into the main part of the castle, Harry felt a kind of warmth flood through is body, like when a favorite aunt would give you a hug. The new students of Hogwarts were led up the stairs and into the Great Hall staring around at everything. Harry seemed somewhat unimpressed with the entire setup; he had seen things much more amazing than this, it was nothing compared to the grand halls of several palaces he had visited with purple moons hanging in the night sky. All in all it was impressive, the castle was nice, but it wasn't the greatest thing in the world that most of the others seemed to think it was.
"When I call your name, you will place the sorting hat on your head and it will sort you into the four houses." McGonnagal was speaking again holding up a battered old hat and a long scroll. As she went through several names it became apparent that they weren't going in any real order. Finally she came to the one everyone was interested in. "Harry Potter."
Harry had to roll his eyes somewhat, but realized that these people wouldn't care if he had been adopted. His dad had told him before that he was known by Potter and he would have to go by it for some time considering a few key people wouldn't know about the adoption. As he stepped forward he sat down on the stool and pulled the hat down over his eyes, letting it rest down on the tops of his ears and the bridge of his nose.
'Ah, welcome back, Mister Smith.' A voice spoke in his head, but he just smiled contentedly and let it carry on. 'Yes, I do believe we should continue. Now then, where should I put you….'
Albus Dumbledore, self-styled Leader of the Light and champion ten pin bowler, was getting restless. At the start of the sorting he had scanned the minds of those around him to get a feel for the anxiety that his new sorting situation would create. He had purposefully put the names in such an order that would make Harry near the top and have him introduced to his new Gryffindor friends easier on. Now it was nearly three minutes into Harry's sorting and the hat had still not called out Gryffindor. He was getting slightly nervous and was about to intervene when there was a sound, much like laughter from the stool. It appeared that the young boy was sharing a joke with the hat.
'Oh, that is quite good, Mister Smith. Yes, I think I'll have to use that one for next year's song. Are we agreed then?' The hat waited a moment for confirmation from the small boy beneath him and then gave a sort of curt nod. 'GRYFFINDOR!' The hat shouted to the rest of the hall which immediately burst into applause. Dumbledore attempted to hide his slight irritation that it had taken so long, but a few had seen the scowl on his face.
The sorting continued on from there, a few others taking slightly longer. Hermione ended up in Ravenclaw and smiled a little unsurely to her new housemates around her. Harry gave her an affectionate wave and she blushed before hiding behind a nearby book that one of the older students was reading. Malfoy got his wish and ended up in Slytherin; although so did Daphne. She seemed a little irritated, at first, but the hat seemed to stick to her head for a moment and she smiled before sitting down next to another young first year named Tracey Davis. There didn't seem to be any real surprises with the sorting and most everyone ended up where they wanted.
"Mister Potter." Professor McGonnagal was coming up the table a few minutes into the feast until she stopped just behind the small first year. Others around him perked up slightly, including the annoying Ron Weasley seated across from him. "The headmaster would like to speak with you after the feast if you are finished."
Harry thought for a moment on what he could have done that would warrant a conversation with the headmaster so soon. He started to remember the conversations he had with his dad before arriving here and then the warnings with the hat. Shrugging he knew what was coming and followed the stern Transfiguration professor down the halls and towards the gargoyle. Just like at the barrier to Platform nine and three quarters, Harry could feel and see the magic surrounding the entrance, but some of it was overlapping with the magic of the castle. He could feel the soft warmth the permeated the stones of the old castle and smiled wistfully as he was lead up the spiral staircase.
The headmaster's office was a large circular room at the top of one of the higher towers; Harry thought for a second that it was incredibly arrogant to put an office there, like he was a god looking down on his worshippers. Sliding into the office behind the professor she introduced them and then left them alone to their conversation. Of course what followed was a few minutes of silence, during which the pair did two opposing things.
Once the boy was seated, Dumbledore began a small passive scan of his mind. There appeared to be nothing on the surface of the boy's thoughts. That's quite fine, I'm sure he's just overwhelmed, meeting a wonderful wizard such as myself has that effect. Pressing a little harder Dumbledore slipped into the deeper mind and felt….nothing. It wasn't so much that there were no active thoughts, but there was nothing there. It was more like a completely white room with no visible walls, doors, floor or ceiling.
This is impossible; the boy can't possibly be thinking anything. Dumbledore stared at the boy in front of him. Said youth was humming slightly and staring around at the various portraits and magical artifacts on the shelves around him. He seemed completely undisturbed by being in the office.
"Mister Potter, I asked you here tonight to make sure that you are adjusting accordingly to your new life here. Was there anything you wanted to speak to me about?" Dumbledore fell back on the old statement; knowing that in the past when a teacher asked a student if there was anything they wanted to talk about the student's mind would fly to the things they wanted to keep secret.
"Nope, I don't think so, sir." Harry kept his face impassive as the headmaster did another scan.
There is still nothing in his head; how can I have a conversation with this boy if I can't tell if he's lying or not. Refusing to show the annoyance that he was feeling, Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and sucked on it for a moment.
"I find, my boy, that speaking about a problem tends to help ease the stress on the mind. Are you sure there's nothing you wish to speak about?"
"No, Sir. May I go? I have my trunk that needs to be unpacked." Harry made to stand without a word from the old man and stood next to the chair with his hands crossed behind his back.
"Yes, I suppose you may go. I was wondering why your sorting took so long." Dumbledore tried one last probe attempting to find the information that he wanted, but there was still nothing.
"Oh, I had a lovely talk with the hat and thought it would be fun to continue with a joke that I had heard before about a rabii, a priest, a nun, and a tree root." Harry smiled and then moved to the door. "Goodnight, Sir." He waved slightly and then disappeared down the revolving stairs to join Professor McGonnagal still waiting for him.
Back in the office, Dumbledore was incensed. It was inconceivable, but the boy seemed to have no thoughts in his head at all. He shouldn't have been able to hold a decent conversation without thinking of something, but he had.
"Don't even think about it." A voice spoke from behind him. Turning he saw the old battered hat lift itself up slightly so that the tip was flowing behind it in a more daring and dashing fashion. "I'm not going to tell you what's in that boy's head."
"I am the headmaster of this school, I command you to do so."
"Of course not." The hat snorted and then laughed slightly. "He's got a wicked sense of humor though, just like his father; both of them." The hat went still once more, seemingly going to sleep as the headmaster pondered over its words.