"That was brilliant, Harry!"
Hermione all but exclaimed as Draco and his bodyguards made their exit just as Ron said, "Mate, what d'you that for? Making friends with them! I've heard of his family. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."
Harry gave Ron a disapproving gaze. "And I told you, it's unfair to judge them like that. I don't care if Draco had Death Eater parents, what matters is what he grows up to be. If we keep on judging them as if they were their parents, then it might just tip them off to the wrong side."
Hermione nodded at this logic, and so was Neville, who looked thoughtful. Ron, on the other hand, looked as if his brain short-circuited. Harry knew Ron understood now, he wasn't just expecting that it's that simple.
"Mental! It makes sense, Harry, but mental! If I didn't know, I'd reckon you're an adult in a child's body," Ron exclaimed, looking at Harry in awe.
Harry stilled. Technically, he wasn't an adult, but he was of age in wizarding standards. He winced. Before he could give a response though, the door opened for the fourth time. The fourth time? That didn't happen before.
"Sorry for the intrusion, I saw Draco Malfoy lingered outside this compartment. Was there a problem, were you all alright?" said a smooth voice – a familiar one – and Harry snapped his head to look.
The boy was already wearing the Hogwarts robes but there was no mistaking the curly hair and striking dark brown eyes. It was a young Victor Rosier. But how – this didn't happen last time! Harry wracked his memories and remembered Hermione being the one arriving at the compartment after Scabbers attacked Draco and his gang. Was it because he asked Hermione and Neville to stay that something had to fill the vacuum?
Hermione answered, "Oh, hello Victor! Yes, we're all fine. We were just talking."
Harry looked at Hermione, shocked at her acquaintance with Victor.
"Talking?" asked Victor dubiously, and his eyes found Neville. Neville just nodded.
"Well, in that case, I'm glad there's no trouble. I'm also glad you found your toad, Nev. I'll be on my way, then. Best to change your robes, I expect we'll arrive soon," said Victor politely, smiling as he closed the door.
Ron blurted out, "Who was that?"
"Oh, that's Victor Rosier. Neville and I were sitting with him in a compartment before we went out to look for Trevor – oh no! I hope he's not offended we didn't come back to the compartment!"
Hermione stood up quickly and bid them goodbye. Neville followed suit, claiming he needs to change into robes. Ron and Harry, after their companions left, changed into theirs.
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry excitedly jumped out of the train. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
They followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path before the path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
Something erupted and bubbled in Harry's chest. He couldn't quite figure it out. Was it longing? Regret? Excitement? There seemed to birds caged in Harry's chest wanting to escape – I miss you! – I'm sorry, I failed you! – I'm back home, once again…
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. They rode the boat and stared at the magnificent castle overhead.
As they arrived, Hagrid led them up a passageway and up a flight of stone steps before a huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised his fists and knocked three times.
The door swung open at once. Just like at Ollivander's, the magic greeted Harry, noticing faintly but it was so much stronger and alive. Harry felt it thrum, prickling his skin. It felt like a thousand birds chirping and trumpets being played as it opened.
This didn't happen the first time Harry was here – maybe because he was a kid; but the energy buzzed and welcomed Harry home, as if Hogwarts had been expecting him. Harry almost cried in joy. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes welcomed them. Harry's heart seemed to burst at seeing Professor McGonagall.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
It was during this point that the Hogwarts ghosts showed up and conversed one-sidedly to the frightened first year students. However, Professor McGonagall returned and lead them to the Great Hall and Harry greedily drank the view. The Great Hall was destroyed, no floating candles, only cracks and missing pieces on the archways and walls.
But here, Harry saw thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
Professor McGonagall silently placed the Sorting Hat – who have a special place in Harry's heart – on a four-legged stool. The hat promptly burst into its annual song and at the end, Harry clapped alongside the student body and the teachers before Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. Harry then observed the Sorting without jitters unlike before. He was determined to at least become familiar with the students in his year.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terrence!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Amanda" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the twins catcalling. Harry's heart was gripped with grief as he watched a cheerful Lavender go on to sit with Gryffindors. He couldn't erase the feeble body of Lavender twitching after Fenrir Greyback attacked her.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Before, Harry looked at the Slytherin table and concluded they looked like an unpleasant lot – some of them are, actually, in Harry's opinion – because their cheers were more subdued and controlled, but they were just not the most expressive of House, and given their infamous reputation, they would certainly lie low. That thought just made Harry sad.
"Corner, Michael!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
Stephen Cornfoot, a boy with sandy-blonde hair, became the third Hufflepuff while the second to be sorted in Slytherin was Vincent Crabbe. Crabbe was followed by a girl named Tracey Davis to Slytherin while Kevin Entwhistle and Justin Finch-Fletchley followed Hannah, Susan, and Stephen to Hufflepuff. Seamus Finnigan was next and Harry fondly remembered his dormmate.
Anthony Goldstein joined Terry, Mandy, and Michael to Ravenclaw, while Gregory Goyle followed Vincent, Millicent, and Tracey to Slytherin. The next to be called was Hermione Granger and she almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly to her head. It took nearly five minutes for Hermione to be Sorted, a near-Hatstall, before being sorted to Gryffindor.
A beautiful brown-haired girl, Daphne Greengrass, was next and was sorted into Slytherin. Wayne Hopkins and Megan Jones were sorted into Hufflepuff consecutively, then Sue Li, a student of Chinese descent, was sorted into Ravenclaw.
"Longbottom, Neville!"
Harry knew Neville would make it to Gryffindor, but Harry suddenly became nervous. Did Neville's sorting take this long last time, too? The Hat finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!", loudly that Harry sighed a breath of relief and laughed good-naturedly as Neville ran off with the hat, running back again to return it so Isobel MacDougal can get sorted to Hufflepuff. Ernest Macmillan ended up on the same house.
Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
Roger Malone and Lilian Moon were sorted into Ravenclaw and then followed by a sorting of pure-bloods like Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson – both sorted into Slytherin – and the Patil sisters of pure-blood Indian heritage were sorted into Ravenclaw (Padma Patil) and Gryffindor (Parvati Patil) respectively.
Sally-Anne Perks was sorted into Gryffindor, and Harry had to wonder why he hasn't noticed Sally-Anne, his own housemate before? He didn't have the chance to think long before his name was called. Whispers immediately broke down as Harry approached the stool. Sighing, he wore the hat.
"Bah! A weak Occlumency shield. Marks for the effort, I guess," The Sorting Hat communicated in his mind.
"I know," replied Harry, "It's embarrassing… you don't have to remind me."
"Hmph," harrumphed the Sorting Hat, "It was foolish of you to come back, Harry Potter."
Harry made to reply but the Sorting Hat beat him to it.
"I sorted you before. But now, you have grown and matured. Your mind and keenness are good enough for Ravenclaw. Your loyalties are great to cultivate in Hufflepuff. Your ambition to save almost everyone that lost their lives can give Slytherin a run for their galleons!"
Harry bit his cheeks. He knew the Sorting Hat would convince him to be sorted in Slytherin again! Laughter echoed in his mind.
"That's because I stood by to what I said when I sorted you the first time, Harry Potter. You'd have done well in Slytherin. It would've led you to greatness."
"I know," grumbled Harry, "as you'd like to remind me over and over again! But I need to be in Gryffindor! Surely, you see that?"
"Do I? Let's see…"
"I mean, I'm not as affected by bias and prejudice, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin house but I really, really need to be a Gryffindor. It would take me a long time to adjust to a new environment. Please put me in Gryffindor."
"Hmph! Your boldness to convince the Sorting Hat is proof enough that you're a hard-headed Gryffindor. Really it was foolish of you to come back! But, as it stands, you coming back is the greatest quality you've shown as a Gryffindor!"
"Also, can I ask you something? Can you not tell anyone that I'm – you know – technically, traveled through time."
"Never fear, my duty is merely to sort students in their houses. And I've never gone wrong with the Sorting, you know?"
Harry's eyebrows raised at this. "Really? I'd have thought you've made mistakes with Peter Pettigrew, Percy Weasley, with Fred and George Weasley. Pettigrew is cunning, Percy is ambitious, and so is Fred and George with the joke shop and everything – they would've done well in Slytherin. The Weasley brothers could have been Ravenclaws, too!"
"Ah, yes. I did consider them in the Houses you mentioned. But really, you don't see why I sorted them to Gryffindor? You, who have seen them and lived through the war?"
Harry went quiet.
"So, you realize. Well, since I have sorted you before, I cannot sort you to another House."
"What?!"
"I can only Sort the students once—once and never again. This is merely formality, Harry Potter – and I thirst for a conversation; do visit me sometimes. Seeing as I have Sorted you before, then you shall be – GRYFFINDOR!"
A thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table. He didn't know how long he was conversing with the Sorting Hat but Harry was relieved that finally—finally, he really was back home. Percy shook his hand vigorously while the Weasley twins bragged how they "got" Potter. Sir Nick patted his arm and Harry immediately felt cold but his heart was warm and that was enough. Neville and Hermione beamed at him as he looked at them.
A certain Olive Rivers was sorted to Hufflepuff and Harry welcomed Sophie Roper as she got sorted into Gryffindor. Why he wasn't well-acquainted with Sophie and Sally-Anne, he didn't know and it didn't matter, he would definitely remember them now.
Harry watched as Victor Rosier got held on for almost as long as Hermione before he got sorted to Ravenclaw. The Ravens cheered as the welcomed Victor while the Slytherins looked particularly sour. Why?Was it because his family were normally sorted in Slytherin? Aurora Runcorn was sorted into Slytherin – was she related to Albert Runcorn?
Now there were only four people left to be sorted. Dean Thomas, a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ronald Weasley's turn. He was pale green by now as he approached the stool. Not a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as Blaise Zabini was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
Harry clapped together with everyone as he fondly looked at the headmaster. Harry dug in the feast and piled his plate with food and continued to do so as the first years rudely interrogated Nearly Headless Nick—they sorely regretted asking why he's called nearly headless.
"So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost," Nick exclaimed.
Harry needn't look over the Slytherin table to see the Bloody Baron, he's got seven years of sight and he knew the story of him and the Grey Lady. He merely looked at Nick, amused, and answered, "Of course, Nick! You can count on the ickle firsties."
Which, of course made the table laugh. Harry, then, helped himself to a treacle tart and other desserts as he listened to the talk about their families. Harry wondered why he feels so famished and maybe it's because he had almost nothing to eat when he, Hermione, and Ron were camping out for the whole year.
"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
The others laughed. Harry wasn't amused. After all, Tom Riddle Sr. rejected Merope Gaunt for the same reason.
"That could've turned out horribly, I'm glad your dad accepted your mother, Seamus," said Harry kindly. Hermione was quick to agree. The table then didn't seem to find it amusing as it was before they realized the severity of the situation. Seamus returned Harry's smile, though, so that was a good thing.
"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
Harry was alarmed. "I hope your Gran's crying because she's happy you survived Neville! That's horrible behavior from your Great Uncle Algie, forcing magic out of you. It's either you have magic or you don't! Really, I don't get this kind of prejudice from wizards. Acting as if they're above people who can't do magic. I mean, look at Muggles, no magic but they advanced themselves quite well."
The table was looking at Harry now. Hermione was listening the whole time and was quick to agree, so was Dean and the half-bloods who live with Muggles. This warmed Harry's heart. Neville shot him an oddly speculative look.
"You know, Harry, for a first year, your outlook in life is quite mature," said Percy, before he went back to discuss academics with Hermione. Harry froze, but then, he can't quite bring himself to be guilty. It needed to be said. Come to think of it, Ron also said something similar back in the train… Are Weasleys naturally this perceptive?
Dumbledore went through his announcements before leading everyone to sing the Hogwarts song. The teachers seemed to be regretting their decisions but still fixing a smile to sing along with the students. Just like every time, the Weasley twins would be the last people singing, their tune as if in a funeral march.
Percy led them to their dormitory and passed by the Great Stairs which awed the first-years, not so much Harry. They met Peeves whom in typical Peeves fashion, sent walking sticks raining on their heads. At last, they arrived, Harry saw the familiar pink dress of the Fat Lady, the guardian of Gryffindor.
After Percy gave her the password, the portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall which they all clambered in. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
Harry picked his bed, the bed he spent six years in Hogwarts in, and will spend another seven years in. Harry allowed himself to sleep soundly that night; he'll worry for what comes ahead in the following days.