Chapter Two

His First Night

"Goodness gracious, Harry!" said Hermione, peering out of the window of their compartment, "it's starting to get dark."

Harry glanced through the window too and saw that she was right; wispy pink clouds drifted across purple skies. He couldn't help gawking at the majestic view. It was the first time he had ever seen mountains and forests up close, rather than in schoolbooks, or on television whenever he was allowed to watch (which was very rare after the evening news; it usually only happened when the Dursleys had forgotten to send him to his cupboard).

"Harry," said Hermione in her bossy tone of voice, "You'd better put your robes on quickly. We'll be at Hogwarts very soon."

"Er…Okay!"

Harry opened his trunk, spotting his folded school uniform next to his robes. He glanced at Hermione who was still sitting in her seat and his face grew warm. She was already wearing her robes and didn't seem to be inclined to leave.

"Erm—"

"What?"

"Hermione, I need to change."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Harry. Do you want me to leave, then?"

"Erm—" Now Harry was in a quandary. He didn't want to tell his new friend to leave, but he wasn't sure that he felt comfortable changing in front of a girl either. "Not really, but—"

Hermione looked a bit exasperated, and like she was going to tell him to make up his mind, then she seemed to think better of it.

"Alright Harry. I'll stand outside the door. Just knock when you're ready."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks Hermione! I'll be quick."

Her bossy look softened and she gave him a little smile and got up. The moment she was gone Harry hurriedly changed into his uniform and robes, flinging his muggle clothes messily into his trunk, and sweeping the rest of his sweets on top. He knocked on the door and Hermione entered, sitting down with him again, then Harry frowned.

"What's wrong now?"

"What about your luggage?"

"Oh! It's in a compartment with some other girls. It should be alright though. I can get it when we get to the train station."

Harry relaxed again, and moments later a voice emanated from some unknown source announcing their imminent arrival at Hogwarts.

"…Please leave your luggage on the train," the voice continued, "it will be taken to the school separately."

"See?" said Hermione primly. "It won't be a problem at all now."

"Cool!" said Harry, feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to lug his monstrously heavy trunk off the train; but his stomach began doing little flips as the Hogwarts Express slowed. He looked at Hermione and saw that her prim expression had been replaced with one of anxiety.

There was a loud shriek as the train lurched to a halt. Harry and Hermione both gulped as they exited the train and joined the growing crowd. As they were jostled by the throng, Harry suddenly realised that Hermione had a tight grip on his hand—no doubt so as not to get separated from him in the mob of students—and he felt his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment again. He hadn't really considered what people might think of him being best friends with a girl.

Harry buried that impulse, deciding quickly that he wasn't going to care about what other people thought. Then he heard a familiar voice booming across the platform and saw a gigantic hairy figure with a glowing lantern towering over everyone.

"Firs' years, this way!"

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, grinning.

"Oh, my goodness!" said Hermione, her eyes turning into saucers. "He does look like a giant."

Hagrid spotted Harry and beamed at him.

"Alrigh' there, Harry? Who's yer new friend then?"

"Hermione Granger," said Harry, noticing that Hagrid was looking at the hand clutching his.

Harry reminded himself he wasn't going to let what other people thought bother him and he said boldly, "I met her on the train and she's really nice."

"Well, glad ter see yeh gettin' along with folk an' fittin' in already, Harry." Then Hagrid boomed out across the platform again, "Alrigh' yeh lot, come on now—firs' years follow me. An' watch yer step—"

Hagrid's warning couldn't have been more well-taken. The path was steep and uneven, and it was nearly black under the thick canopy of the pine trees except for the glow of Hagrid's lantern up ahead. Several boys who apparently thought that he and Hermione were walking too slowly roughly shouldered their way past, nearly knocking them off the path.

"Hey!" said Harry crossly.

Then one of the boys turned around and Harry instantly recognised him.

"Oh, it's you," Draco Malfoy drawled, recognising Harry as well, and, like Hagrid, he took note of Hermione's hand around Harry's.

"Got yourself a girlfriend already, have you?" Malfoy chortled, and his goonish mates sniggered. "Potter, isn't it? My father told me all about you—he said you'd be on the train."

"Did he?" said Harry evenly, his eyebrows shooting up under his messy fringe.

"Yeah! He said you might be needing a friend, but it looks like you've already got one," Draco Malfoy gave Hermione a sneery look. "Didn't expect you to be the sort who hangs out with girls, though."

"What's wrong with girls?" Hermione snapped. "Now if you don't mind moving, you're blocking our way. Come on, Harry, don't listen to him."

"Ooh! Going to let a girl boss you around, are you Potter? Who is she anyway?"

Already feeling a bit self-conscious about his best friend being a bit bossy and a girl, Harry opened his mouth to tell Malfoy to shove off, but Hermione beat him to the punch.

"If you must know, I'm Hermione Granger," she said haughtily. "Now, are you going to move or not?"

"Granger? What's that—a muggle name?" Malfoy sneered.

"So what if it is?" said Harry coldly, now feeling oddly pleased that Hermione was a bit bossy—clearly she wasn't about to put up with any rubbish from anyone.

"It just seems to me that you could do better than to hang around with her sort, Potter. You should upgrade to better friends—I can help you with that."

"I've already got a better friend," said Harry. "Anyway, you heard her, Malfoy. Either move on or get out of the way."

"You want to watch it, Potter! If you're not a bit politer, you'll end up like your parents—you and your girlfriend. I heard your father married a Mudblood too… Come on Crabbe, Goyle, seems like Potter's picked a side already—the loser side."

Malfoy and his two thuggish companions sniggered and shoved their way through some of the other first years up ahead, who all seemed to be too frightened of them to say anything.

Harry was still seething when he and Hermione began traipsing down the path again; he had no idea what a Mudblood was, but he knew it was some sort of nasty insult about his mother—and about Hermione too apparently. That's when he noticed that his hand was now being crushed in her vice-like grip, and he glanced at her face which looked quite distraught now that Malfoy was gone, and her eyes looked like they were glistening a bit more wetly in the bobbing yellow light of Hagrid's lantern. Apparently, she was much more anxious than she had let on.

"You alright, Hermione?"

"I will be, Harry. Thanks for sticking up for me."

"Er… No problem," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed and pleased at the same time. Hermione seemed to be brilliant at sticking up for herself, probably because she wasn't used to other people sticking up for her, and Harry felt good for having an opportunity to stick up for someone other than himself for a change.

After slipping and stumbling down the path a bit further, they emerged from the black forest into starlight which sparkled on the smooth surface of an equally black lake. There seemed to be more stars than he had ever seen before.

"Wow!" said Harry.

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione squeaked, sounding more excited than anxious now.

Partway up the dark mountain looming on the other side of the vast lake, was a grand castle which looked like it was straight out of a fairy tale, with many ramparts and tall towers and a warm yellow glow shining through numerous windows.

"There she is," said Hagrid proudly as the first years milled around him at the pebbly edge of the black lake, "Hogwarts—ain' she a sight?"

Harry nodded, still gaping with awe as Hermione pulled him toward the lakeshore. Then he saw them, a fleet of little boats at the edge.

"No more'n four ter a boat," Hagrid called out. "Yeh don' wanna sink," he chuckled. "The giant squid migh' not like his sleep bein' interrupted."

"Giant squid?" whimpered a high-pitched voice, "Father didn't say anything about a squid."

Hermione giggled and Harry blinked when they saw who it was. The whimpering had come from Draco Malfoy.

"Hah!" said Harry, grinning. "Not so brave after all, is he?"

"Apparently not," Hermione agreed, smirking; her grip on his hand relaxed. "Anyway, let's get a boat before they're all taken."

She led him towards the nearest boat, and they began to clamber in when two other boys approached.

"Hermione," said a bright voice.

"Oh, hello, Neville," said Hermione.

"Found your toad, then?" said Harry, pleased to see the boy looking more cheerful.

"Yeah, dunno where he was hiding, but I saw him hop off the train as soon as I got off."

Then Hermione and the other boy caught each other's eyes. Despite it being night, under the silvery light of thousands of stars Harry could clearly see his red hair and freckles, a spot of dirt on his nose, and was surprised to see a glare on his face.

"Come on, Neville," said the red-haired boy stiffly, "I think Seamus and Dean have found a boat."

"Oh, er… alright, Ron." Neville waved at Hermione. "Thanks for helping me look for Trevor—see you inside."

"Bye Neville." Hermione looked a bit bewildered as Neville and the boy named Ron made their way to a boat nearby with two other boys already seated and waiting.

"Is that Ron Weasley, then? …the one with the rat?" asked Harry, equally puzzled.

Hermione nodded. "Yes—he doesn't seem to like me very much for some reason. I don't know why, though. All I did was watch him try to do a spell to turn his rat yellow—but it didn't work—it can't have been a very good spell."

Harry grinned, catching on, and raised his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you mentioned that it wasn't a very good spell, did you?"

"I did, actually."

"Hmm… that might have had something to do with it then," he said nonchalantly as he and Hermione sat in the boat.

"Oh no!" Hermione squeaked anxiously. "Do you think he took offence, then? I didn't mean it that way—really!"

"Don't worry about it," Harry shrugged as the boat took off on its own accord. "It's not that big of a deal. I'm sure he'll get over it."

They fell into silence for a while as the boat slowly glided across the mirrored surface of the lake towards the immense castle. The breeze was chilly, but Harry barely even noticed, nearly overwhelmed as he was with the sensation of floating through a sea of stars, reflections of the stars above.

"They're beautiful," Hermione whispered, "like thousands of little diamonds."

Harry had to agree, and he was glad now that there were no guys in the boat with him and Hermione. He reckoned he wouldn't have paid nearly as much attention to the prettiness of it all, afraid of seeming too "girly" as Malfoy had more or less put it.

"Yeah, they are," Harry whispered back.

"Watch yer heads," Hagrid shouted when they approached the ivy-covered craggy rocks under a cliff on the side of the castle facing the lake.

At first, Harry thought they were headed for the boathouse nearby, but the boats slipped into the curtain of ivy concealing the maw of a cave, and he ducked as Hagrid had suggested. It was more than a bit spooky in the blackness as Hagrid's lantern was too far ahead now to do them much good. There was a chorus of chittering above them from creatures unseen, and Hermione grabbed his hand again.

The boat carried them deeper and deeper into the tunnel until it eventually came to a stop at a little stone jetty. They clambered out of the boat and Harry almost slipped on the slimy rocks, but Hermione caught him before he fell into the underground river. Then Hagrid led them all up a steep stone staircase which emerged onto a grassy hillside.

They continued to follow him across the grounds and up to a stone courtyard and an ancient, massive oak front door—which was actually two doors latched in the middle. One side of the doors swung open and Harry was briefly blinded by the glare of light before seeing the severe looking witch with a steely gaze standing in the doorway.

"There you are," the witch snapped. "I thought you'd never get here."

Hagrid chuckled.

"Gotta take things nice an' slow an' make sure the young uns get here safe'n sound, Professor McGonagall."

"Yes, yes! Of course, Rubeus—it just seemed to be a bit slower than usual this year. We simply must be getting on with the Sorting—first years, follow me, and no dawdling."

Harry gulped and Hermione gripped his hand again. He could feel his heart thudding against the wall of his chest and heard Hermione's breathing quicken as Professor McGonagall led them all into an entrance hall large enough for a three-ring circus tent, lit only by flaming torches.

The professor's clicking footsteps on the marble floor echoed as she led the first years to another gargantuan doorway, which was already wide open.

"Right then," she said sharply before taking them through, "the start-of-term feast is about to begin in the Great Hall, but first you must all be sorted…"

Professor McGonagall launched into an explanation of the importance of the Ceremony and the Houses, and by the time she had finished and led them into the Great Hall, all the first years were scared out of their wits.

Harry's stomach squirmed when he saw all the other students in the school—hundreds of them it seemed—staring at the first years and murmuring, some of them laughing.

"Titchier than ever…" he heard someone chortling.

"Blimey, Hermione, how are we going to be sorted? What are we supposed to do?" He thought his chest might burst now, his heart was hammering so hard.

"Probably some sort of test," Hermione whispered, looking just as worried as him. "I've learned loads of spells, but I have no idea which ones they'll expect us to know."

"But I don't remember any," Harry groaned. "I sort of remembered a couple before we got off the train, but now I can't think of any at all."

"Well," said Hermione, breathing so rapidly that she looked like she might hyperventilate, "If they go alphabetically, I'll be going before you. Just watch whatever I do very carefully—I'm sure you can manage them, Harry—I don't doubt for a minute that you're going to be a brilliant wizard one day—"

"It's today I'm worried about," said Harry with a hint of sarcasm.

"You can do this, Harry!" she said forcefully, "I'll tell you how to do as many spells as I can before I get called. Here's a quick list of some of the basic first-year spells: Incendio, Wingardium Leviosa, Colloportus, Reparo, Diffindo, Spongify, Alohomora, Finite Incantatem, Flipendo, Lumos, Nox, Fumos…"

Hermione rattled off the spells in rapid fire—so fast it made his head spin. But at least he caught a few of them, which jogged his memory a bit. And then Hermione began to explain each one at high speed, but thankfully slow enough for him to hear every word.

"…and just remember, it's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa...not Win-gar-dium Levio-sah—make gar nice and long and put the accent on the o—and don't forget to swish and flick—"

"—swish and flick," Harry nodded, "Okay, I think I'll be able to remember that one now. What's the next one—?"

He suddenly spotted Professor McGonagall setting a tottery old stool—which looked like it was about to fall apart—at the front of the staff table, right in front of the entirety of the assembled students and he began to panic again. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and spun her around so that she could see what was going on.

"What on earth…?" Hermione gasped when she saw Professor McGonagall setting a rumpled, tatty old hat on the four-legged stool.

Harry was equally stumped, but then his heart-rate began to slow slightly when Professor McGonagall explained about trying on the hat.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," he muttered.

"Speak for yourself," Hermione moaned, "That hat is filthy."

They heard a load groan and looked down the queue to see Ron Weasley.

"I'm going to kill Fred and George," Ron griped at Neville. "They told me I was going to have to wrestle a troll."

Neville gave Ron a nervous little chuckle.

"Honestly!" huffed Hermione, rolling her eyes, "How could he have possibly believed such a silly thing?"

Harry grinned, feeling his mood lighten a bit more. Then his eyes widened in surprise when a rip in the frayed hat opened like a mouth and began to sing to a tune that sounded a bit like an Irish jig. As it went through the character traits of the Houses, he began to get nervous again and he desperately hoped he wouldn't be put in Slytherin. He just wanted to go to whichever House Hermione was in, and there was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't put her in Slytherin.

Then Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll of parchment, and she did indeed call up the first years alphabetically, beginning with Abbott, Hannah. Finally, she got to Granger, Hermione's name.

"…not Slytherin, not Slytherin…" he heard her muttering under her breath.

"Good luck," Harry whispered, reaching out and giving her hand a quick squeeze. She nervously smiled at him and began to shakily make her way to the end of the Great Hall.

Hermione sat on the stool and grimaced when Professor McGonagall placed the grimy looking hat on her head. The minutes ticked on and Harry's stomach clenched; it was the longest anyone had worn the hat yet and Hermione appeared to be scowling and almost looked like she was arguing with the hat. Finally, the hat bellowed out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Hermione slumped, looking very relieved. She beamed at Harry and made her way to the Gryffindor table. There was a smattering of applause from the Gryffindors and a groan a bit further down the queue.

"Bloody hell!" Ron Weasley moaned.

"She's not so bad," said Neville, "She's quite nice really. She did help me look for Trevor, after all."

"I suppose that's something," Ron grumbled.

Harry frowned, and Neville nudged Ron. Ron glanced at Harry and gulped. When Neville was called up, leaving Ron all by himself, he shuffled his feet anxiously and avoided looking at Harry.

Harry sighed; he was supposed to be making friends with people, not scaring them. Weasley didn't seem so bad really and Harry couldn't really blame him for being annoyed when Hermione had told him his spell wasn't very good—even though it was apparently true. He had just hoped that Ron Weasley would have got over it by now.

Finally, it was Harry's turn.

"Potter, Harry!" Professor McGonagall called out.

There were gasps and a buzz of voices filled the Hall when Harry stepped away from the queue. Ron gaped at him in shock, his ears turning pink—there was a hint of excitement and apology in Weasley's face when Harry passed by him.

Harry's legs felt like jelly and his heart began to race again as he made his way to the front of the Hall. He tried to ignore all the eyes on him. Hermione shot him an encouraging smile from the Gryffindor table, where she was sitting next to Patil, Parvati and Brown, Lavender. She seemed to be determinedly holding a space open for him on the bench beside her, and he hoped beyond all hope that the hat would see things his way.

Harry sat on the rickety wooden stool, hoping that he wouldn't be the one to break it, and the hat fell over his eyes, blotting out the Hall filled with students staring at him in anticipation. He suddenly heard a voice inside his head.

"Hmm," the hat muttered, "Where to put you—where to put you—what a quandary. Much Courage and Bravery I see, and Loyalty beyond measure too—a reasonably sharp Wit—and Talent—my goodness—great Talent indeed—not to mention a strong willingness to work hard under the right set of circumstances—and what's this? Very curious—a thirst for Greatness and Power I see—"

"What?" Harry scowled, unnervingly reminded of Ollivander the wand-maker's comment and mentally shooting his internal voice back at the hat, "I couldn't give a hang about Greatness and Power—I just want to be with my friend!"

"But it's all here in your head," said the hat, sounding perplexed, "Cunning, Deviousness, a strong desire to Rule above all—"

"You must be joking!" Harry snapped, growing cross.

"Not at all, my dear boy—not at all. You would do quite well in Slytherin—"

"NO!" Harry yelled in his head, panic warring with his anger. "That's mental! Just put me with my friend!"

"Are you sure?" asked the hat, "Slytherin seems a—"

"IF YOU DON'T PUT ME WITH HERMIONE, I'LL…I'LL… I'LL THROW YOU IN THE BLOODY LAKE!" Harry bellowed.

"Well, now," sniffed the hat, "there's no need to get all snippy about it—and your great sense of loyalty makes you a marvelous candidate for Hufflepuff I must say—"

"WHAT'S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE WITH MY FRIEND?"

"FINE! Okay! Alright! … There's no need to keep yelling at me!" said the hat grumpily, "I must admit, your Bravery and Friendship are very strong indicators—not to mention your Stubbornness—all of which make you an exceptional candidate for—GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the last word being shouted out loud for the entire Hall to hear. Now he knew exactly how Hermione had felt and slumped, both exhausted and relieved. Professor McGonagall whipped the hat off Harry's head, looking annoyed and very proud.

"Took you long enough, Potter—" she groused, the barest hint of a smile around the strict witch's eyes and the corners of her lips, "almost as long as Granger—now run along—quickly now—there's more Sorting to be done."

Harry hopped off the stool, finally registering the whoops and cheers of delight from Gryffindor table. Two more familiar looking redheads—twins apparently—were standing on the bench and yelling gleefully, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" and Hermione was beaming at him radiantly.

"I knew it, Harry!" she shrieked with excitement as he sat down beside her, nearly bursting his eardrums, "I knew you'd get into Gryffindor!"

Patil, Parvati and Brown, Lavender fell into a fit of giggles on the other side of Hermione.

"Blimey!" said Harry, grinning at her, "It was bloody hard though—the stupid hat wanted to put me in—" he almost said Slytherin but thought better of it, still feeling needled by what the hat had told him, "—nearly every House," he concluded vaguely.

His crossness faded though while he watched the last few students being Sorted. Weasley, Ron was shivering and looked like he was about to throw up, but the hat yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!" the instant it hit his head.

He made his way over to the Gryffindor table looking relieved and sat next to Neville, giving Harry a sheepish grin. Harry smiled back and noticed yet another redhead, even older than the twins, clapping Ron on the back.

"Well done, Ron! Splendid!" said the older redhead in a posh sounding voice, "Excellent! Mum and Dad will be so proud—"

"Yes, spiffing, Ron, old chum…" said one of the twins, mimicking the older redhead and grinning wickedly.

"…Marvelous," said the other redhead, also imitating the older boy who scowled at them both, "Simply marvelous, my good fellow!"

Ron looked both amused and aggravated, as if he wasn't certain that the twins were actually pleased that he had ended up in Gryffindor.

Harry laughed out loud and it suddenly hit him why the redheads all seemed so familiar—they had been part of the large family who had breezed right by him in King's Cross. They seemed like an alright bunch, he reckoned.

He felt Hermione take his hand under the table and give it a squeeze, and she was still beaming happily at him between rolling her eyes at the silly antics of the Weasley brothers. Harry grinned at Hermione and couldn't be happier to have her as his first real friend.