Harry easily found Platform 9 ¾ despite Hagrid's idiocy giving him no useful information about it. He just had to follow a family of redheads he had quickly spotted.
Honestly, Hagrid had told him that the wizarding world was a top secret thing to hide from muggles and this plump woman was almost shouting the words "Platform 9 ¾", "muggles" and such. With people like that, it was a wonder the secret hadn't already made headlines. And then, this owl in its cage and these trunks from another time, very suspicious.
He had sent Hedwig flying to Hogwarts, it would be better for her than to stay locked in her cage the whole trip and had placed her shrunken trunk in her pocket.
Moreover, given the number of children (including three that looked old enough not to be in their first year at Hogwart) who accompanied her, this woman's brain must have be malfunctioning if she had already forgotten where the platform was.
He discreetly followed the family and watched them pass through the wall on a pillar between platforms 9 and 10. The pillar was located right in the middle between the two platforms and Harry wondered if wizards understood the system of fractions correctly. Why ¾ instead of ½? The question didn't stay in his mind for long, however, as he saw that the family was completely gone.
He nonchalantly walked towards the pillar, not running like he had seen the two youngest of the red-haired family do, and went through the wall. He remained motionless for a few seconds when he saw the platform in front of him. It was a nameless bazaar, children running everywhere, equally excited adults, animals hooting, meowing, croaking in their cages. At the time, he cursed his uncle who had taken him to the station so late. The train was leaving in less than half an hour and the nervousness was at its peak.
Harry slipped quietly towards the entrance of a train car, avoiding being noticed. There would be plenty of time later to put on his Boy-Who-Lived mask (and, seriously, who thought up such a nickname?) from which he had gleaned information from books on recent British wizarding history. He'd spent the last few weeks fine-tuning it in his bedroom: shy (he was supposed to be after spending ten years with muggles) but outgoing, courageous (like his adoptive parents) without being thoughtless, good at Charm and Potions (like his adoptive mother) as well as Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts (like his adoptive father). He wasn't planning on befriending anyone, though. Acquaintances, allies, yes, but not friends. On the one hand because someone getting too close to him would compromise his mask, on the other hand because even if he considered himself a heartless bastard (his words), he did not wish to play with the feelings of others.
He didn't expect to end up in Gryffindor either. His various readings had made him understand that they would be people who were too sincere, too exuberant and not studious enough for him to be able to last seven long years in this atmosphere. Everyone expected it to be his home but his sanity would not survive it. Slytherin was also crossed off his list. There was too much risk of his mask being discovered there and it wouldn't fit his Boy-Who-Lived persona at all. After all, the murderer of his supposed parents had been in this house which had a very bad reputation. He had also read in a book on the great ancient families that the Malfoy family was traditionally sorted into Slytherin with a few exceptions in Ravenclaw. His brother would probably be a snake, and he didn't want to get too close to him so soon. He intended to analyze him from afar to begin with before seeing if he was worth approaching or not.
Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, it didn't matter to him, both had advantages. No one would suspect a badger of wearing a mask and having not necessarily peaceful intentions, the ideal way to go unnoticed. And the house of intellectuals would allow him to increase his knowledge in all discretion since all the students would do the same thing.
Despite the large number of compartments already occupied, Harry found an empty one towards the front of the train. He quickly settled in, enlarged his trunk and pulled out an exciting book on protection runes. He intended to use it around his bed, if only at first, before he saw who would be hostile and who would be friendly in his House.
Part of the book was about runes in Parseltongue which was a rare language in Britain and seen as a Dark Art while it was highly prized in other countries, especially in Asia. He remembered perfectly having conversed with the boa at the London Zoo and quite managed to read the few examples present in the book. He was delighted to have this ability that would allow him to use a language unknown to others and therefore impossible for them to recognize and use against him. On the other hand, the history books insisted on the dark side of the gift, mainly because of the two very famous people to possessed it in Britain: Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort. So the more practical choice would be to hide this gift from the public but to use it intelligently in private.
The train started before he even finished reading the chapter he had just started. He was really going to have to be careful the next few years that Vernon brought him in sooner. He couldn't risk missing the train.
He had time to read three chapters before one of the redheads he had seen in the station showed up and got into his car. Harry remained polite but slightly indifferent in order to make this Ron Weasley understand that he was not interested in a discussion. The other boy tried several times to pull the brunette from his book, without success, and finally gave up with a sigh and left the compartment to find someone less annoying. His interest in him was clearly directed by the rumors of Harry Potter being on the train as he had spent several seconds staring at his forehead before even introducing himself. His attitude screamed "Gryffindor" and Harry preferred to avoid, at least for now, socializing with someone like that. Oh boy, was this book interesting!
The journey passed quickly according to Harry, who finished his book a few minutes before arriving at Hogsmeade station (who was naming the places? Seriously?). He subtly ignored a bushy-haired girl who was looking for a toad lost by another student. In the boy's place, Harry wouldn't even have looked because a toad had absolutely no use.
The fat oaf who had introduced him to the wizarding world was calling first-year students. Great… Considering how irresponsible he was (leaving an eleven-year-old child alone while he goes drinking said a lot about a person, right?), Harry doubted more and more the common sense of wizards.
And ferrying across a lake on boats kids who have just spent hours sitting on a train? It wouldn't surprise him if children ended up in the water from time to time. He hoped that wouldn't be the case for him, his family had never seen the point of teaching him how to swim and this lake looked very deep.
He was joined by the blond he had met at Madame Malkin's as well as by two students who looked more brawn than brains.
- Hello there, how we meet again. We didn't have time to introduce ourselves last time. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.
The blond held out his hand and Harry watched it for a few seconds before shaking it. And shit. The little jerk from the clothing store was his twin brother.
- Harry Potter, delighted.
- Hmm… Ah, that's Crabbe and Goyle,… childhood friends.
Ok so not only was his brother a little pretentious prat but he also had bodyguards. Harry thought he could do with it. After all, he had a few years to get to know him.
Unlike the other students, Harry didn't marvel at the castle, even though he pretended. He watched out of the corner of his eye the reactions in the other boats, analyzing them. He got an idea of the character of some from this observation. Ron Weasley was visibly impressed and clearly displayed it just like the boy who had lost his toad. In another boat, the four students hid their reaction better even though their eyes were shining. Visibly educated to hide their emotions, apparently. Just like his brother who, despite having bright eyes, tried to maintain a neutral face.
The first year students were led to a medium sized room and met Professor McGonagall who looked quite stern. From what he had read in a book about Hogwarts, she had been teaching Transfiguration for many years. He listened distractedly to her speech, preferring to continue analyzing his future classmates. The professor left, asking them to be presentable when she came back for them. Several students were relatively scruffy, so he observed himself for a moment. Apart from his unsubduable mop of hair (and he had tried to tame it, believe it), he was impeccable.
He put Weasley in the "terribly naive and maybe a little simpleton" box when he heard him recount that his brothers had told him that they were going to have to beat up a troll to be sorted. A little argument between the redhead and his brother put him in the "absolutely not subtle or cunning" box (not to mention not very smart to start an argument when the professor can come back any minute), but maybe he could get better over time.
Luckily, the argument had already stopped when Professor McGonagall returned for them and ushered them into the Great Hall.
Ok, there, Harry was a little amazed. He had lived most of his life in a totally ordinary suburban house so, yes, the Great Hall was impressive.
However, the idea of putting an old hat on his head was much less impressive. He sincerely hoped that it was self-cleaning given the number of heads he successively covered.
He passed the time looking at the teachers.
The big clumsy was there, a huge smile displayed. How horrifyingly genuine was that smile. Next to him was a rather plump woman who obviously had dried earth on her hat, probably the Herbology professor. She seemed to be just as cheerful as Hagrid and smoldered the students with affectionate gaze. The same strategy would apply for her: shy smile and puppy dog eyes. Easy.
Further on, a professor looked vaguely like a goblin, but less aggressive. To be observed before determining a strategy. Goblins were very intelligent creatures, he will have to use his brain to put this teacher in his pocket.
The Potions professor was easily recognizable by the stains that could be seen on the hand that held his glass. He nodded to Draco when he was sorted into Slytherin in a way that indicated some familiarity. A family friend? In any case, he looked smart and had an observant look, Harry will have to be wary of that.
Professor Quirrell sat next to him, Harry recognized him from his quick encounter at the Leaky Cauldron. He was shaking just as much as the first time he had seen him. Very strange for a teacher in such a school, especially a Defense teacher. To watch very closely, there was something fishy.
And, of course, right in the middle, wearing a robe that gave you a vague headache if looked at for more than a few minutes, Albus Dumbledore. Harry had read a lot about him but nothing that impressed him. Books were written by the victors, he would wait to know the man to form an opinion. He had always been a little paranoid, according to himself, but it had saved him a lot of trouble (especially with this "nice" gentleman who hung around the school and gave candy to the children and that everyone enjoyed before he was caught asking a little girl for favors of a sexual nature). Playing innocent, wearing his mask perfectly in front of him, Harry's internal alarm kept screaming danger with him.
-Harry Potter!
Ah, it was his turn. He walked over and sat down on the stool.
- Mr. Potter, finally we meet. You are in the thoughts of many minds I have seen tonight and in years past. Let's see, let's see.
- Uh, Mr. Hat, just before you start, can you see everything in my head?
- Don't worry, young man, I can't reveal any of the secrets I see in people's heads. Mirus Malfoy, huh? I don't think even Albus knows. And no one will until you reveal it. Alright, now where to sort you… Not Gryffindor or Slytherin, right? Hmmm… Hufflepuff is absolutely not for you, you are only loyal to yourself. You still have the typical Slytherin profile, even more so than your brother.
- Not Slytherin!
- I still want you there… what are you doing? What is that ? Stop right now! AAAAH but... Stop! Stop! It's okay, I'm sending you to... RAVENCLAW!
The name of the house had been shouted aloud and Harry hurriedly put the hat back on the stool before heading to the loudly applauding blues and silvers table. The Gryffindors looked extremely disappointed, they obviously expected to have "Harry Potter" in their ranks.
Finally, thinking back to the time he surprised his aunt naked when he left the bathroom and the time he had to help his uncle put cream on his varicose veins will not have been useless. Now, he should just try to forget those scenes again… Luckily the Sorting Hat gave in quickly, Harry didn't want to have to think about worse things than that.