Swords, Shields, Stories, and Sorting

There was no time to soak in the grotto after Quidditch practice on Sunday. Harry and Lyra went straight to lunch, and then Brandt walked them toward the gates of Hogwarts for their knife training. They started down their usual route through the town, though Brandt steered them on a different route. Near the side of the town with the train station was a large residential building.

Standing outside was a bald man in black dragonhide with another man in a red robe with a red thick black leather belt. The one in red had his neat black hair and looked strong yet moved with fluid grace. The one in black was being led through some kind of exercise in hand-to-hand combat. Harry couldn't see exactly what was happening as the man in red had his back to them, but he was holding a stick and pretending it was a wand.

He jabbed it toward the man in black, who carefully twisted his own hand to slap it to the side with his wrist in slow motion, then twisted his arm to knock the stick to the ground.

"Good!" he said in very flat English that had no trace of an accent. "Keep practicing when you can."

The man in black looked up to see Brandt's approach and jumped to attention.

"Sir! My apologies for not being on guard."

The man in red turned around, and Harry recognized him immediately as the man he had met at the martial arts tournament over the summer. He had a pendant with a large, red stone around his neck, similar to the one the muggle parents had worn last year to Dumbledore's birthday. His face brightened when he saw Harry.

"Mr. Black!" He greeted Brandt with a firm handshake. "And Mr. Potter! Good to see you again!" he shook Harry's hand and spoke in the same flat English he had before.

Harry was in a bit of shock. Finally, he rallied himself and said, "You speak English?"

"No," he replied, then looked confused. "I mean, yes. Is it magic? I'm still a bit confused about the whole thing. My name is Daritan He. At least this… spell… didn't change my name."

Brandt explained, "There's a ritual; it lets you sacrifice speaking any other language for three full months to gain the knowledge of one of your choosing, which will be the only one you can speak or understand for that same period. Unfortunately, it won't help you with reading or writing, only comprehension and speaking."

"This gentleman," he gestured to Brandt, "came to see me a few days ago and tried to convince me that I could come to England and teach spear fighting to you, but I would have to know secrets about the world of magic and promise not to retell them. It took him setting my office on fire and then repairing all the damage for me to believe him about this whole magic thing."

"Wait," Lyra interrupted. "How did you speak to him if he hadn't done the ritual yet?" she asked Brandt.

"Dark ritual," Brandt replied. "There's a quick and dirty version of the one that I did for Master He that allows me to keep my native tongue."

"What's the sacrifice then?" Harry asked.

"A tongue," Brandt said with a note of finality that meant he wasn't going to explain more.

"Well, all of this is amazing," Harry's new teacher exclaimed. He pointed at Hogwarts, "That's a magic castle. This is a magic town. I'm about to teach a magic child. A few months without my birth language is worth that."

The man in black gave Brandt a nod, "If you're all settled, I need to get back to my hunt."

Brandt gave him a nod back, and he vanished with a snap.

"And then there are things like that," Daritan He gestured to where the other man had been standing a moment ago, then picked up a large case that looked like a flat coffin and followed Brandt and the children inside the building. There was a small sitting room inside and a hallway leading towards a large, empty room. The large room was like an arena that took up three floors with a balcony wrapped around each level. Someone jumped out when they exited the hallway and swung a short blade straight toward Lyra's head.

She barely dodged, with the blade cleaving several hairs off her head that floated through the air as they were severed. She had her own knife out before the golden threads hit the ground to return the attack. As she lunged, Harry could see that it was Ransom who had made the assault and pulled his own knife to assist her. The two of them stabbed, slashed, dodged, and parried until he had cut Harry across the shoulder, kicked him in the gut, cut Lyra across her chest, and gave her a throat punch that had her wheezing for air. Brandt had been holding the spear instructor back from intervening the whole time.

As Harry and Lyra lay on the ground, Daritan started yelling, "Why are you attacking children? Who are you to do that?"

Ransom looked mildly annoyed and replied, "Why is there a muggle here?"

Brandt let Daritan go and went to the children to heal their wounds. He looked to Ransom, "He is Harry's new instructor. You will be working exclusively with Lyra now. He is a master of polearms."

Ransom scoffed, "A muggle can't be a master of anything."

He was too busy staring at the magical healing to respond to the insult, "That is extraordinary! You must be able to have full contact sparring without worrying about serious injury!"

Harry groaned as he sat up, "It still hurts, though. Repairing the clothes is difficult too." He played with the torn section of his school robes, wondering how many would be destroyed over the next several years.

"I am not working near a muggle," Ransom said with indignation.

"You'll do what I say," Brandt told him harshly. "You're only here because of Pik'kal. Release him, and Lord Black will gladly pay you your full salary to be on your way. Until then, your contract has you teaching according to our whims. So if we say you work near a muggle while wearing lobster claw pot holders… You ask what color the pot holders are."

Ransom sneered, then looked to Lyra, "Come along, I want to see how you've improved."

Lyra got up and followed after her teacher, leaving Harry with Brandt and Daritan.

"So he doesn't like me because I'm not a wizard?" he got a nod from Brandt. "Well, that's what the bald guy thought too, but I won him over."

He looked to Harry, "As I remember, that curly-haired guy you were with before said you stabbed a boar with a spear before."

"It was a pig with horns," Harry corrected him. "And it wasn't really a spear."

He reached into his pouch and pulled out his staff, getting an amazed look from his new teacher at each new bit of magic he saw.

"No, that is not a spear," he examined the staff. "This is some kind of antler."

"It's from an animal called a Lampong," Harry told him.

He just stood there in shock, "A Lampong? Giant white deer? Are Lampongs real?"

"You know what it is?" Brandt asked in an equally shocked tone.

"It's a mythological creature in books for children. They are said to ward off many ancient evils. They are born when a Duwende dies to protect in its place."

"No, that doesn't happen," Harry corrected him. "My first teacher was a Duwende; he says that isn't a thing."

Daritan sat down with a thump and a look of bewilderment.

"This kind of thing is going to happen every day now, isn't it?"

"Almost definitely," Brandt told him with a nod.

He sat on the ground for another minute, contemplating the bizarre world he was now in. Then he got back up and said, "Let's get started with what I do understand."

He propped open the large case he brought with him to display a large number of pole weapons. One had something like a scimitar blade on the end, and another had a spearhead with just a pointed end. Many looked too extravagant for fighting or were for some special purpose that Harry couldn't determine, and one even looked like it was made of pure ivory.

"So, what do you like?" he asked Harry.

He studied each one and immediately ruled out the ones with more lateral uses. The strange ones looked too complicated, so that left him with the basic spear and one with a crossbar. He pointed to them for his teacher.

"These two are good, I don't want anything too complicated. Simple can sometimes be better."

The older man nodded, "That was a test, I wanted to see if you would choose practicality over style and complication. It's better to do one thing with the skill of a master than a thousand with the skill of an amateur." He pulled the most basic spear out. "You can start with this one, and it will always be able to scale up to another when you have more experience."

He passed the more basic weapon to Harry and then took the more advanced one for himself. Brandt went to sit and write in a ledger he always carried with him as the lesson began. Much like every other instruction he had been given, this one started with forms and poses, along with a mentality of how everything was supposed to align to keep his abilities structured. They went through this for nearly four hours, leaving Harry completely knackered at the end.

When Lyra came back, it looked like he had gotten the better deal. Her clothes were torn in many places, and hair was missing from above her forehead on one side. Ransom looked a combination of frustrated and proud as he had a bleeding cut running across one side of his face that he hadn't healed yet.

Brandt smiled, "Good job Lyra. We have one more lesson for the two of you today, and I need to bring Master He back to the flat we have for him in London." he turned to Lyra's teacher. "You will get a list of everything Harry needs for his instruction that you will have Pik'kal create. Make sure it is done promptly."

Ransom grumbled as they left the building, leading the children and Daritan He back toward the castle. His eyes started to light up again in wonder as they passed through the gates. Some students looked at him strangely and muttered "muggle" as he passed until they arrived inside and arrived at a small classroom where Símone Ides and Whispers was waiting (along with Silvy).

Brandt provided a brief introduction between Harry's instructor and their occlumency teacher before saying he needed to leave.

"Someone will bring you to Master He and Ransom each week. I will see both of you again closer to the winter break. You have quite a few other people to contact if there is an emergency."

Harry and Lyra shared a look, assuming the women on the Harpies would be showing up more regularly.

As he left, Símone asked them, "Did you two have a good summer? How high of a count did you get playing Simon with Whispers?"

They both showed their disappointment and told her they couldn't get past the mid-thirties.

"Don't worry," she smiled. "Any progress is something. Let me try for myself."

She sat down in front of Lyra and locked eyes with her. The two of them sat unblinking for nearly four minutes until finally breaking eye contact.

"You said that you could only go to the mid-thirties! We could have gone another five minutes easily."

"You were much easier than Whispers," Lyra told her without the sound of exhaustion in her voice. "Try Harry."

Harry shrugged and sat in Lyra's place. As soon as the connection started, he put up the projection of the Simon game in front of him and tapped out a sequence. He could see it but couldn't feel it at all when Símone tapped in her response. When he played with Whispers, it felt like someone was pounding on his head with a hammer. Not wanting to waste any time, he pushed her out of his head and sat up.

"Whispers plays much rougher than you. He beat on our heads with all his strength and got stronger at the same rate we were."

"I'm still amazed by how much he is helping you," she mused. "We can definitely move on to the next lesson sooner than expected. It is a technique that I like to call The Welcome Mat."

This seemed to be more of a lecture than practical instruction as they moved to sit at the desks in the room. Seeing as though he wasn't needed, Whispers took Silvy to an open area of the room and began to play fight with her.

"Both of you know different ways to protect your mind and also how to build a construct like the Simon game. One of the greatest skills you can learn with occlumency is sharing memories just through eye contact."

Harry raised his hand, "I've done that a couple of times with Severus and Brandt when there's been something I've wanted them to see. So I looked at them and pushed a memory to the front of my mind."

"Then you're one step ahead already," Símone told him. "However, I want you to be able to have entire conversations with others in a controlled environment. I am going to enter your mind and then perform a technique to pull your consciousness into mine. Harry, you'll go first."

Símone kneeled in front of his desk and pointed a wand at him. She spoke no incantation, and as soon as he felt a puff of air on his face, they were inside his mind. Normally he couldn't see their teacher when she interacted with them in his head, but now she stood there in the dark abyss of his mind with a smile on her face.

"Hold tight, I'm going to pull you into my head now."

He was not sure what he was supposed to hold onto in his own mind, especially because, in his mind, he didn't have hands. Harry braced himself as he felt something similar to a portkey pull him forward. After just a moment, he stopped and was now inside a wooden cabin. As he looked around, the feeling of being everywhere to just being in one place was a bit disorienting. He examined his hands and body to find he was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing in the classroom. There was a small fireplace in the cabin with a few logs burning and the smell filling his senses. Two chairs sat empty nearby with soft cushions. The rest of the room was taken up by bookcases, though the floor was covered with rugs made from various animals with the heads and limbs still there, just flattened. As he looked around the room for a second time, Símone was suddenly sitting in one of the chairs as if she had been there the whole time.

"Come, sit," she gestured toward the other chair. "This is my Welcome Mat. It is a spot in my mind where I can invite people in to have short conversations or share memories with them. This place doesn't exist in real life; it's completely fabricated but also totally real. Everything can be interacted with all your senses."

As Harry had made his way to the chair, he had heard the noise his shoes made on the wooden floor, felt the fabric on the chairs, and smelled the burning wood in the fireplace. He was sure everything would taste real as well, but he wasn't going to lick one of the rugs.

"You will build something like this in your own mind as well, complete with defenses and a way to display memories."

"What defenses do you have?" Harry asked while eyeing the heads of the animal rugs.

"You'd think that would be it, wouldn't you?" she smiled. "Watch this."

Suddenly the entire far side of the room was impaled with dozens of thick metal spears from somewhere outside, and then that entire side collapsed like they were inside a crushed soda can. The destroyed area was slowly reconstructed and restored.

"It's your own mind," she told Harry, whose eyes were wide with shock and tinged with fear. "You will be safe from your own ideas. As for a way to view memories, I have the bookcases over there. Bring me one of the books."

Harry got up and retrieved a thick blue book from one of the shelves. When told to, he opened it to find it all blank.

"There's nothing in here," he stated the obvious.

"This is a way to display memories, not store them. You never want to keep your memories inside a Welcome Mat, where they are easy to access. You said you have pushed memories to the front of your mind for a professor and your tutor to see; the concept here is the same."

Símone took the book from Harry, and a plume of bluish magic came from her forehead and splashed against the book's open pages. When she passed it back to Harry, he could see a memory of a Quidditch match being played out on the pages.

"One more thing before I switch to your sister. Brandt informed me that you have an innate ability to remember, recall, and connect memories at great speed. Is that correct?" Harry nodded. "This is actually common enough that we know why. It comes from those who lived through childhoods of extreme isolation." Seeing Harry's look of fear and embarrassment, she added, "I'm under oath not to share anything from our sessions, not that I would ever betray something so private, to begin with. You lived through something that made you spend more time in your own head than in the real world, so this ability stems from being your only friend. It seems things have changed now, so you have come out of your ordeal with a special gift."

After a moment of silence, Harry was thrown backward, feeling like he was just spat out of someone's mouth like a watermelon seed. When he recovered his senses, he was back in the classroom. Lyra looked up from playing with Silvy and Whispers to see Harry shaking his head.

"How long did you observe us in that exercise?" Símone asked Lyra.

"Six minutes? Maybe?" she wasn't sure.

"That felt like at least twenty," Harry said in disbelief.

"Another benefit of the Welcome Mat is having private conversations that last far less time than they would in the real world," Símone told them. "Lyra, your turn now."

They switched places, with Harry joining Whispers and Silvy to play in the open space of the classroom. To add a little fun, Harry took crumpled pieces of paper and transfigured them into birds for Silvy to chase and catch. After about five minutes, Lyra snapped out of the trance she had been in and looked at Harry expectantly.

"Nearly five minutes," he told her, watching her shocked expression.

"Your assignment for next week is to start building your Welcome Mats. Just four walls with all the possible ways to interact through your senses. No need for windows, doors, defenses, or ornaments. Just four walls, a roof, and a floor."

Following dinner, Cedric took custody of the first-year students and led them to the Scamander dorms. All of them went crazy seeing the grotto, and many of them asked if they could go swimming. Janaína told them they could go the next day before lunch. She then turned the waterfall orange and had everyone walk through the colored water.

Upon seeing the common room, the new students became even more hysterical, running around climbing in the trees, swinging on the tires, and trying to reach the hammocks above. When Harry squinted, he could see Whispers hiding with Silvy at the very top of the canopy of the trees.

Trying to get a little distance from the group, Harry went off to make himself some tea but found he was being followed by Astoria Greengrass, waving her hands in the air like she was trying to find her way through a pitch-black room.

When he stopped and looked at her, she asked, "Where's Whispers? Is he around here somewhere?"

Harry took a quick glance up into the trees to see his little brother eyeing the obsessive girl, then replied, "He's probably sleeping now. You should go have fun with your other classmates."

Her enthusiasm deflated, and she trudged back to the other first years, running around. Harry finished making his tea and was just sitting down when he spied a group of eight first-year boys and girls approaching him hesitantly. He sighed and gave these newcomers his attention as they closed the rest of the distance between them and looked up at him, pushing one of their group to the front like a spokesman.

"I, uh… I mean, we wanted to meet you…" the spokesman started with trepidation. "You see, our parents kind of named us all after you."

Harry was stunned, "Um… What?"

The spokesman replied, "We," he pointed to another boy in the group, "were named Harry.

"I'm Harold," said a third.

"Harriet"

"Hadrian"

"Henry"

"Harolda"

"Harrison"

They all chimed in with various versions of his own name. This was too much for him to deal with, so he tore a page out of Remus Lupin's playbook and pointed behind them.

"Hey! What's that?" he asked loudly. As they all turned to look, he turned invisible and snuck off to join Whispers, hiding in the tree.

He watched the group of Harry-ish children look around for him and then slowly disperse. He shuddered to think that at least a few of them were probably going to be in his house for the next six years.

He saw Lyra being chased around by some of the new students, but she looked like she was having fun with it. At one point, she turned to chase them, lighting her hair on fire and going after them while pretending to be a monster. He didn't want to play with them like that, but it did give him an idea.

He remembered back when he met Nicholas Flamel, how the man gave off a slightly unpleasant aura. Trying to mimic that, Harry released a bit of his magic, tinged with his annoyance for Minister Fudge and his blunder with Sirius Black. When he felt like he was doing a good job maintaining it, he snuck back down, sat in the corner where his record player was, and tried to pick out an album to listen to.

A couple of the new students approached him, shivered, and went back to whatever they were doing before. Finally, Harry picked out the album he had listened to that gave him a feeling of victory at the end of the last year and dropped the needle right on Shirley Bassey's - Jezahel.

As he was getting through the song, another one of the new students approached him, shivered a bit at his magic then continued his approach. When he got close, he nodded to the music, then smiled.

"At first, I thought you were listening to Public Enemy," he told Harry with an American accent. "Then I figured out it was just the sampled song by Shirley Bassey."

"I don't know… Public Enemy…" Harry replied slowly. "Doesn't being near me feel weird?"

"It feels like punk music with the treble turned way up," he replied.

Harry pooled more anger into the aura he was putting out, but the new kid just nodded along.

"More grunge and metal, now. I guess it might make some people uncomfortable. What's got you in a snit anyways? The other kids are saying you're that Harry Potter kid."

Harry looked at the new student strangely; he must not be from around here. That was nice.

"There are kids two years younger than me named after me!" Harry told him with an exasperated tone. "That's insane, right? Eight of them!"

"Eight of them at this school," the boy replied. "I bet there are a bunch more other places. I'm Jasen, by the way. That's J-A-S-E-N because my parents are weird like that."

Harry toned down his angry magic aura, and the boy sat down.

"So, you're American?" Harry asked.

"My mom's from here. Dad's American. I got acceptance letters to go to school here and in Nevada at Groom Lake, but my mom insisted I go here."

They both continued to chat for a while, Harry told him about some of his real-life adventures, and Jasen told him about his mom's job as an Obliviator for MACUSA. It required her always to be traveling, so he didn't pick up much of her accent over the years. His dad worked in the muggle world as a record producer and for an organization of healers that secretly, but legally, provided emergency magical healing to muggles in the arts and entertainment industry as they tended to do stupid things that sometimes ended in death.

When the sun on the room wall began to set, Cedric gathered all the students around the fire pit and lit it up with a swish of his wand. Dozens of sleeping bags were laid out on pads, and there was a table set up with sticks and ingredients to make s'mores. Some of the muggleborn kids started telling ghost stories naturally about ghosts, muggle psychopaths, and more that didn't phase the magical-raised students at all.

Lyra jumped in and started her own, "I'm going to tell you all about a terrifying creature known as a Sigbin." The other Scamanders were already in the know about it, yet the thought of it still scared them.

Lyra turned out to be a great storyteller, using her wand to increase the light from the fire to cast shadows around the room and use the sigbin leather to create shadowy fog for dramatic effect. By the time she finished, most of the new students were clustered in fear.

"The one thing that can permanently kill them is the light from the antlers of a Lampong," she told them. "It creates a light that wraps around and under everything near it, removing shadows and killing the sigbin."

She was glaring extra hard at Harry, and seeing the fear and desire for hope on all their faces, Harry sighed and pulled out his staff, stamping it hard into the ground and emitting light that obliterated the fog that was coming from his sister and bathing the entire room in white light. When they were finished being awed, the new students applauded.

Lee stood up when Harry put out the light, "We've got one more story before going to sleep. So get yourselves some more marshmallows while we set up."

The new students ran off to restock on s'mores while Lee ran off with Patricia, Colin, William, Daria, and Meli to prepare.

Rachel snuck up to Harry with Romilda and Yani while he was munching on her own toasted marshmallow.

"My brother told me about the Sigbins, but they didn't sound that scary," she told Harry.

"He's also seen the Usurper and nearly got killed by a Hoohoo," Harry said with a shrug. "The sigbins probably didn't seem like a big deal to him."

Yani asked, "Are we really going to the Chamber of Secrets tomorrow?"

Harry nodded, "The Usurper is still sleeping, so it isn't that bad now that it is clean. It just has a lot of dark hallways and snake statues."

"It is still The Chamber of Secrets," Romilda pushed.

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "Without a basilisk in there, it's just another part of the castle now."

"The Slytherins were annoyed when someone told them that they didn't get to lead the tour down there," Rachel told him with a smirk.

Before Harry could reply, Lee called everyone to attention.

"For the last story of the evening, we will have a live telling of a story that many of those raised in a magical household know, The Ritual of Betrayal."

There was a series of oohs from those who knew what he was talking about.

Lee cast a spell that deepened his voice and made it echo slightly, "Long ago; there were four friends, four wizards, that practiced magic together."

As he spoke, Daria, Meli, William, and Colin came out of the shadows; their robes changed into dark leather armor, and cast various spells into the air while standing together.

"They did everything together and eventually made a vow to become strong together."

The four of them chanted "Stronger!" and tapped themselves on the head with their wands to give themselves a small glow.

"They met every month to grow together and improve their magic, forging an inseparable bond between them."

They continued the chant with each tap of their wands, changing the color and strength of the glow.

"When they were as strong as possible, one of their group suggested one more ritual to grow."

"It's too much!" Meli yelled at William.

"It's never too much!" he yelled back. "We promised each other!"

Lee continued the story, "The others did not want to take the next step, so when the one friend showed up to their spot the next month, he found himself all alone."

"Fine! I'll do it by myself!" William yelled.

Harry could see Patricia sneaking up behind William in the darkness. He thrust his wand into the air, and electricity shot out. When he stopped, a large piece of metal shot out of his hair, then another, and another, and another, slowly moving down his body until he was covered in metal spikes. William screamed as if he were in pain and swung his arms around wildly.

Lee continued the narration, "Despite his new power, he was lonely without his friends, angry at them for abandoning him, and along with the magic of the ritual, it turned his gift into a curse."

Colin walked out and saw William covered in spikes, "A monster!" he yelled and cast balls of light at William.

William jumped on Colin, and soon he was also covered in iron spikes. The two of them stalked away. After a moment, Daria and Meli walked into the light of the fire, and from above, Colin and William dropped from the trees and pounced on them. After a moment, the girls were also covered in spikes. They all screamed and rushed toward the first-year students by the fire. Some of them screamed and ran away, while others were too frightened to move.

Before they could pounce on those that remained, they stopped, and Patricia stepped out with her wand and cast "Finite Incantatem!" causing all the metal spikes on the Scamanders to vanish.

"There's no threat; come back," Lee canceled the spell affecting his voice and called to the ones that ran away. "The moral of this story is twofold. The first is never to abandon your friends. You may look at it as the three abandoning the one, but it was the one that took things too far. When your friends want to do something dangerous, stay with them and help them with their problems. The second is never to perform rituals without knowing the consequences or mixing hazardous emotions into them. Every legal ritual has a structure for a reason. Deviation gets you unpredictable results."

He gestured to William, who tapped on his arm with his wand, and a small metal spike came out, causing a small shriek from some of the first-year students.

"How did you do all that?" one of them asked.

Patricia stepped up, "The first transfiguration you will all learn is wood to metal. I put small pieces of wood in all of their clothing and then turned them into metal spikes for the story."

"Couldn't they have gone into their skin?" someone asked.

"That's why you practice," she countered. "Magic is dangerous when you perform it recklessly."

With that said, Cedric pushed for all the new students to get into their sleeping bags and get some rest. Lyra offered to burn a hoohoo feather for them but was told not to so they could go to sleep under the stars on the ceiling. Since they still hadn't learned how to make the cots in their dorm more comfortable, Harry managed to snag the hammock with Whispers while Lyra got Silvy to cuddle with when they went to sleep.

The Chamber of Secrets was the most anticlimactic moment of the tour with the new students. They had been expecting a labyrinth filled with danger and monsters, Harry had heard them asking if they would need to bring torches to explore the darkness and burn away cobwebs that blocked their path.

Instead, they walked down a flight of stairs to a well-lit corridor with snake statues and to a moss-covered room with a sunlight charm and a giant statue of Salazar Slytherin above a dried husk of a cocoon containing the Usurper. Greg and Neville had a hard time reconciling their experience with the renovated chamber as it existed now. The most that Harry was able to do to entertain them was to have them laugh at the statue as he commanded it to open and close its mouth like a giant nutcracker.

§Speak to me, Slytherin!§

§Close!§

§Speak to me, Slytherin!§

§Close!§

§Speak to me, Slytherin!§

§Close!§

After wandering around the empty halls connecting to the main chamber, they gathered back together and went back to the grotto, where everyone went swimming until lunchtime.

The full house gathered together with the new students for their expedition into the Permitted Forest. The younger students clustered in the middle of a group of Scamanders led by Guryon and Hagrid, flanked on the sides by Newt and Tina, and Janaína taking up the rear.

"It's really quite a nice place," Hagrid told them as they entered the darkness of the trees. "You've got unicorns and thestrals, which the centaurs to keep in line."

Harry tried to add a bit of warning to Hagrid's speech, "There's also a colony of spiders, one of them is as big as a house, and the rest are at least the size of bears."

"And trolls," Tina added. "Forest trolls that blend into the environment and need an adult wizard to deal with."

As they walked, Guryon showed them bits of plants that could be used for potions and trees with bowtruckles, making them good candidates for wand-wood. Then they heard laughter.

"Pixies!" Harry called out as he drew his wand, causing many others to do the same.

"Wait!" Luna called to the others, stepping out from the group in the direction the laughter came from.

She opened her bag, and the pixie she had befriended last year flew out, then giggled loudly. There was an echo of giggles, and a swarm of pixies came out of the trees. As they appeared, Luna emptied her bag out, which contained dozens of dead bees and butterflies. The arriving pixies gorged themselves on the dead insects and then flew away.

"That was cool!" a small voice from the new students was heard. Many of the others echoed his statement.

Harry looked for the source and saw Rolf Scamander standing in the middle of the group. The boy blended back in with the group when he was done talking, making Harry question if something magical had made him miss spotting him until now.

Further on their hike, Hagrid gave them information on where they were based on different landmarks, types of mushrooms growing, and one giant clearing where he told the story about fighting against the basilisk that devoured the giant spiders and petrified the herd of centaurs. Harry could see a look of relief from Newt and Tina, which he interpreted as the new students being sufficiently scared to return on their own.

The clearing where the thestrals and unicorns had been was empty. They stopped anyway, and Hagrid removed a giant pack he had been carrying. With the help of the other adults, they set up a picnic. As they were in the middle of eating tiny sandwiches, Harry heard a twig snap, and he and Lyra's heads jerked up toward the edge of the clearing where a large man, covered in moss, was watching them. Having realized it had been spotted, it let out a roar and walked into the clearing, dragging an uprooted tree behind it like a club.

"Forest troll!" Hagrid called out, and all the students started running. Newt and Tina quickly corralled them from running further away with two large magical shields.

"Everyone stay here," Newt commanded them. "We will take care of it."

"Mom, Dad," Guryon said with a giddy voice. "Let us take care of it," he gestured to his wife.

Tina rolled her eyes, "Be careful, both of you. Mr. Hagrid, please make sure it doesn't get by them."

Hagrid stood up to his full height. He was about a foot taller than the troll at nearly fourteen feet tall. He stood in front of the students while Newt and Tina took the sides, wands drawn. Guryon and Janaína drew theirs as well and started transfiguring their clothes into different types of armor.

The troll roared again and pounded its club into the ground. As he was working, Guryon spoke to the students.

"This is a common forest troll, a young one. The fully grown ones will reach closer to twenty feet tall. He is trying to assert dominance and claim this territory as his own. This close to the school is a problem, so we need to dissuade him of his ideas. The centaurs in the forest would normally deal with it, but they aren't around."

The transfiguration of their clothes into armor included metal boots and gloves, though neither of them had a helmet. Guryon pounded on his chest like a gorilla and charged the troll. His wife started to sprint around to the side.

The troll roared again and charged, dragging its tree-club on the ground behind him. He stopped short to try and swing his weapon, but Guryon was already on top of him and leaped high to deliver a crushing blow to the troll's collarbone with a sickening crunch as the bone broke. Janaína took the opening to deliver a kick to the back of the troll's knee, dropping him down to the ground as it lost his grip on the club.

Now at eye level with Guryon, he delivered several blows with his transfigured gauntlets straight to the face of the troll, bloodying it up and breaking its nose. When he finished, he moved back toward the students with his wife. They were greeted with applause.

"It's not over yet," Janaína told them. "Trolls have incredible regenerative healing."

She gestured to the troll as it stood back up. There was a grinding noise as the nose fixed itself and flexed his shoulder, then picked up his club and roared.

Guryon charged again; this time, he had to duck under a wide swing of the club, though he just stood up after and delivered a two-hand punch straight to the troll's ribcage, staggering it backward. From behind him, Janaína's black panther form charged at great speed, leaping and shifting back to her human form at the same time. Guryon caught her by the arms and swung her around to deliver an incredible kick straight to the troll's head, snapping the neck to the side, and it collapsed like a brick wall.

This time, they didn't back off, despite the applause from the students. They just stood to the sides of the fallen troll and pulled out their wands, conjuring large balls of fire at the tips. As the troll's neck repaired itself, he stared at the wizards above him and did not move. After nearly a minute, the two wizards dismissed the fire, backed off, and allowed the troll to get up slowly. He took a few hesitant steps backward and then ran as fast as he could back into the trees.

They reversed the transfiguration of their armor back into clothing as they returned to the students who were cheering at their approach. Quite a few students looked scared at what had just transpired and were just clapping along with the others with fear in their eyes. Then all the students froze as the herd of centaurs excited the forest near where the troll had left. They were led by Agestra, wielding her large ornate spear. While she was still only covered on her front by her long golden hair, she was also wearing the necklace they had seen worn by Magorian on the night they were attacked by the basilisk. She led the group right up to Hagrid.

"You bring foals into the forest in great numbers, Friend Hagrid," she told him.

"Well, um, we wanted to show them the forest is dangerous."

She gestured toward the tree line, and two more centaurs came back, towing the troll from before with glowing ropes around its neck as it tried in vain to pull them off.

"Do you need another demonstration?" she asked the students. Even though they all shook their heads, she galloped over to the troll and stabbed it deep in the leg with her spear, splattering the ground with black blood as it screamed in pain.

She returned to the students, "This forest was made Forbidden for a reason. It is for warriors," she gestured to Hagrid, Harry, and Lyra and then a nod to Guryon and Janaína. "Others should not enter."

"They will not return without suitable reason and escort," Newt told Agestra.

She seemed to shrug off his statement, then kneeled before Harry and Lyra, "Friend Potter, Friend Black. We will have you return at the next full moon. Your unicorn needs a name; choose well."

With that, she rose and guided the herd back into the forest, dragging the troll behind them, the wound in his leg still dripping black blood as it was healing.

When they had gone, the four Scamanders started leading the group of students back toward Hogwarts.

As they walked, Lyra looked at Hagrid and asked, "What just happened?"

Hagrid seemed to be in shock but replied slowly, "Agestra is now the chieftain of the herd, and she has named the two of you as Friends. They will welcome you in the forest and protect you like their own."

"Not that you should come back on your own," Newt warned them.

Hagrid continued, "The unicorn foal you met last year will have a naming ceremony this next full moon. They want you to have the honor of providing the name. I also got to name one when I was named as a Friend." He smiled proudly at the two children.

"What did you name your unicorn?" Harry asked.

"Gaston," Hagrid smiled. "He's perfect, a pure paragon."

"Is ours a boy or girl?" Harry asked.

Hagrid stopped and tried to think, "I can't remember… Come back when we start unicorn visits again in a few weeks."

Back at the castle, the new students were spreading stories of what they had just witnessed; after a few times retelling, everything had turned into the gossip of legendary status. Even Luna's moment was being treated like she was the Pied Piper of Cornish Pixies. Before dinner, the first years were all taken away by Professor McGonagall, and the Scamanders entered the Great Hall to find the sixth table removed and the Sorting Hat on its stool by the lectern.

Everyone settled in and waited for the sorting to begin. After a short wait, the Deputy Headmistress marched in, leading the first years behind her. They pooled at the front of the room and waited. Slowly, the brim on the Sorting Hat tore itself open, and it scrunched down to give the appearance of a face. Then it spoke.

"You don't get a song this year. Last year, I asked you to bring me new material with a prize waiting for the best submission. How many brought me something?" The hat paused. "None of you! Fredrick and George Weasley!"

The two gingers jumped to their feet, "Yes, Mr. Hat!"

"I expected more from the two of you. This was your chance to have me sing whatever you wanted. Not anymore. Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"We could have given you anything?" asked Terrence. "But we were busy saving the school!"

"We could have made fun of the Slytherins?" Bud added.

"Too late now," the hat said sadly. "A wasted opportunity. Now the new students have probably received an experience more than any song I could have sung. Though next year I am raising the prize to a hundred and fifty points." Looking at McGonagall, who had been watching the exchange in shocked silence, "The names, if you please."

She slowly unrolled the scroll and called, "Harry Arbutus!"

The ring leader of the Harry renames ran up to the stage and had the Hat placed on his head. After half a minute, the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Nearly eighty students were in the incoming class, so the sorting continued for quite some time. Jasen Goldhorn, the boy Harry had spoken to about music, came to Scamander, and Astoria Greengrass was nearly a hatstall but followed him right after to their table, where she squeezed in next to Lyra and started asking where Whispers was.

When Rachel Nevitt took the seat, the Hat was on her head for half a second before it announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The girl Harry met on the train, Yani Nolwenn, came to Scamander, and a few more he hadn't met before. So far, the entirety of the Harry Gang had gone to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.

The hall fell into silence when McGonagall announced, "Rudolph Scamander!"

Guryon and his wife perked up as the boy with curly hair walked confidently up onto the stool and had the hat lowered onto his head. He was there for nearly two minutes before the Sorting Hat bellowed out, "RAVENCLAW!"

There was a momentary pause in the room before the house of blue and bronze exploded into cheers, along with his parents and everyone else. He smiled as he hopped off the stool; the piping on his robe changed color, and went to join his new classmates. The last name that Harry recognized was Romilda Vane, who sat on the stool for nearly three minutes with looks of annoyance and frustration before her smile slowly turned sinister, and the hat yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

When everyone was sorted, the feast began. Harry tried to talk to as many of the new students in his house as possible, but it was a madhouse. Up at the faculty table, Guryon and Janaína were also speaking to everyone, probably explaining their battle in the forest. Every so often, when he had been talking for too long, Dougal came over from his seat next to Newt, picked up food on a fork, fed Guryon by hand, or forcefully turned his head back to his plate so he would eat. It was quite entertaining to watch.

When dessert had been served, Dumbledore made an announcement that everyone's schedules would be waiting for them on their beds when they returned to their dorms. When the Scamanders returned to their common room, most were annoyed at the cots waiting for them instead of more comfortable beds. Janaína explained that their first lesson on improving the sleeping situation would take place next weekend, and they couldn't ask another student for help. Cedric looked a bit embarrassed as he and Patricia had transfigured a softer pad on top of their cots. Harry and Lyra made their way back to the comfort of the trees and hammocks to find that Neville and Greg had already taken two of the lower ones. They claimed their top spots where Whispers and Silvy were already sleeping and turned in for the night themselves.