Hagrid had been all too happy to meet Harry's two new friends, pleased to see that he was making some progress in embracing this new world. Directing the first year students to the boats that would carry them to school, he had also let slip that it was very similar to what his father had done, meeting his closest friends on the initial train journey there. Although Harry hadn't wanted that to put initial pressure on Hermione and Matthew that it meant they were definitely going to be the best of friends, neither had seemed too fussed. Rather, they had been quite enthused about the idea, which had sent a strange warmth through him that he hadn't felt too often in his life. He had wanted to know more from the half-giant, especially since he hadn't realised he knew so much about his parents, but then it had been time for them to board the boats and Hagrid had left them to command his own vessel. It was probably for the best - it was pretty clear to see what would happen if he'd been in the same boat as them. The lake they floated on was gorgeous but Harry had no intention of swimming through the icy September water.

As for Hogwarts itself, it had diminished the beauty of the lake through its own magnificence. It cast a looming shadow over them, making them feel as tiny and insignificant as insects. The towers glowed with life, contrasted against the coldness and darkness of their surroundings. Harry Potter had never seen something so wondrous. It was strange but as the castle grew larger, he fully believed that he was home. It felt right. It felt like he had been waiting for this moment for eleven years, making the life of torment almost worth it in a sense. This was some almighty power looking down upon him and deciding that he deserved better. He continued to stare at the mighty stone structure as Hermione rattled off different facts about the school that she had discovered (and memorised) during her copious amounts of reading, whilst Matthew leant back and listened to her talking. Harry was surprised that she didn't lose her breath, since it seemed she never took the time to pause between thoughts, but he was happy to be learning new tidbits, fascinated by everything she said.

The only downside of it was that he wished that he'd done his own reading beforehand in the month leading up to this point so that he could join in, the three of them having some sort of intellectual conversation about Hogwarts' history. He would make sure to catch up. Hermione and Matthew had shown their abundance of knowledge already and he didn't want to be left out. What if they realised he wasn't as smart as them and they ditched him? Surely they would rather be with people who actually knew about this world. He kept those dark thoughts, the result of his self worth being diminished by the Dursleys, at the back of his mind, allowing himself to enjoy this moment. The calm before the storm. He didn't have to worry about what the future held right now. Instead, he focused on Hermione's voice, lay back with Matthew, and admired the view.

It was when they were walking through the caves up to the school, once more directed by Hagrid, that talk turned to what Houses they were going to get put into. It was another example of Harry's lack of understanding, with Hermione giving him an incredulous look when he admitted he had no idea what the Houses were. Her expression softened when she saw him look downtrodden, Matthew silently wondering what the boy had been through to fear being wrong so much.

"There are four Houses that students get separated into before the feast tonight," Hermione explained, deploying her lecturer mode. "Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. What House you get put in is determined by your characteristics. Hufflepuff is for those strong of heart, caring and loyal to the last. Ravenclaw values brains and academic merit."

"Is that where you want to end up?" he wondered aloud. "I mean, from what I've seen, you're the smartest person I've ever met. I've never known someone who could remember so many facts."

She blushed deeply, unable to look at him for a moment. "That's just memorising words on a page. Anyone can do that, given enough time. I feel as if I would fit into Ravenclaw but maybe that would just be the easy fit. Would I be truly challenged if I went where people expect me to go?"

Whilst Harry pondered her point, trying to figure out which one people would anticipate him joining, Matthew took over the explanation duty. "Now, Slytherin doesn't have the best of reputations, that's for sure. It primarily searches for ambition, a cunning nature, and a thirst for achievement."

"Everyone knows what Slytherin is really about," a voice interrupted. It appeared that some other students had been listening in to their conversation and one of them had piped up. His strong Irish accent set him apart from the others. "Every single dark wizard started in Slytherin. You get sorted into that House, you're going down one path."

"Correlation doesn't mean causation," Matthew shot back. "Not every Slytherin student automatically becomes a bad person, otherwise they wouldn't have the House. Do you think Albus Dumbledore would allow all potentially bad students to mingle on their own, sealing their fate of being on the dark side?"

"I'd rather listen to what my mam says than you. Dumbledore has no control over the sorting so he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to."

Harry could tell Matthew was losing patience with this boy. His grip on his walking stick was tighter than it had been, though his expression was controlled perfectly. "And what do you actually know about the sorting ceremony?"

"My brothers told me that you have to fight a troll," a ginger haired boy spoke up.

"Yeah," the Irish boy pushed on. "It's some sort of magical test that pits us against an unknown threat. I've heard talk of years gone by where students have had to do it on the lake so that they could face the giant squid!"

"There's a giant squid in the lake?" a mousy faced student timidly said, looking back to the water with a new sense of fear obviously eating away at him.

"Hermione," Matthew spoke softly. It was startling how quickly his demeanour could change when he was talking to someone he liked, Harry observed. "You've read Hogwarts A History and I'm sure there's mention of the ceremony. Care to enlighten everyone so they can stop wetting themselves?"

"It's a hat," she answered almost immediately, enjoying the chance to show off her knowledge once more. "A magical hat that can read your thoughts. It's been the same for centuries. Have none of you really read up on this place?" She finished with a big huff, which made both Harry and Matthew chuckle.

"That's boring," the Irish one said. "How would a hat know what you're like? Nah, I'm gonna still believe what I believe." He marched ahead of them, quickly followed by his ginger companion and another boy with dark skin who gave them all an apologetic smile.

Matthew let out a sigh. "You'll find that people don't always like listening to facts when they're not interesting. It's definitely a real problem in wizarding society so it's a good thing that we have people like you, bringing that fresh perspective."

Another shy smile swam across Hermione's face. It was clear to Harry that she wasn't used to receiving so many compliments, which he felt he could connect to.

"You've spoken a lot about the wizarding world," she said. "But you also said that your family wasn't really connected to it. So...how do you know so much? Did you read as much as me?" Hermione looked hopeful at that point, as if she were wishing to find someone who was like her. Again, Harry could resonate with that.

"I told you my family wasn't a part of wizarding society. I never said that I wasn't." That was all he was offering at this point. Harry could sense that the girl wanted to ask a load more questions, but he could also tell that the boy had no intention of answering them. To avoid any awkward silences, he chose to continue with his own last minute research.

"We didn't get to finish our chat about the Houses," he reminded them. "What about the last one? Gryffindor?"

"It's said that the bravest and most courageous wizards go there. Just as determined to succeed as a Slytherin, but maybe less likely to sacrifice someone else to get there."

"Which one do you want to be in?"

"I'm sure the hat will know when the time comes."

Once again, Harry was finding that his answers tended to be evasive more than eye opening. But the response made his brain start whirring. Did he know where he wanted to end up? If he didn't, how would an old hat know any better? He tried thinking of the traits that had been listed. He'd like to think that he was a nice person, despite his upbringing, but was that all he wanted to be known for? Being around Matthew and Hermione had cemented his belief that he wasn't the smartest, especially not for a House that promoted brains above everything else. Matthew had done his best to be positive about Slytherin but the main thing he had heard about his early years had revolved around dark wizards. If Slytherin was their home, then surely he didn't want to associate with them, at least in respect to his parents. And that Draco boy had told him in Diagon Alley that he was going to be in that House. The thought of seeing that ferret face every day for the next seven years was one that made his stomach churn. That left Gryffindor. Matthew had stood up to the three bullies so surely he was brave enough to go there. Hermione was able to speak in front of everyone, which certainly took some bravery too. But was he as courageous as the House desired? He had attempted to stand up to Dudley in the past but had never properly succeeded. There was the incident at the zoo with the disappearing glass and the friendly snake but was it truly brave to use magic (albeit accidentally) against someone who didn't possess such powers? Wasn't that more conniving, an example of doing whatever was required to get what you wanted? Maybe he would be seeing more of Draco after all. Harry let out a shudder, which he played off as an effect of the cold when the other two gave him concerned looks.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was Professor McGonagall who greeted them inside Hogwarts, allowing Hagrid to depart with one last wave to Harry and a reminder that he could pop down to his hut whenever he wanted. McGonagall was an imposing sight and even the most boisterous students, those who had been laughing or making the odd snide remark, quietened down when she stared at them all. She had a stern face that was just as sharp as her accent. Harry wondered whether he would have willingly come to the school if she'd been the one to introduce him to the idea, as had been the case for Hermione. He tried to picture her knocking a door down like Hagrid had done on that tiny remote island, coming to the conclusion that she could easily do that through the power of her glare alone. She explained the House system, confirming what he'd already been told. The way she had uttered the word 'Slytherin' had reinforced his convictions that he wanted to avoid them at all costs. The scowl Malfoy had worn at her temporary slip of impartiality had quickly shown the Deputy Headmistress in a new light. She had also introduced them to the existence of the Sorting Hat, again supporting what Hermione had told them. The Irish boy had glared in her direction before he'd noticed Harry and Matthew standing by her side.

Then it was time to enter the Great Hall for the first time. The chamber was much larger than he'd anticipated and it made the first years appear even tinier than they already felt. The room was dominated by five tables, four that ran vertically and one head table presiding right at the back on a raised platform. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were focused on their arrival, which had Harry feeling more nervous than he thought possible. How was he supposed to act normal when everyone was looking at him? And he knew that the majority of those eyes were searching for him, which was a strange thing to consider when he'd been in the shadow of the Dursleys for a decade. The older students were leaning forward and shoving each other to try and get a look. It was only the reassuring hand of Matthew on his back that kept him walking forward.

Professor McGonagall appeared with a stool and what Harry had to presume was the fabled hat that would be deciding his destiny in a few short minutes. It looked dingy and small, almost insignificant. Using it for centuries, as his friend had mentioned, must have taken its toll on the object. But, when it grew a mouth and began to move, Harry had to remind himself that this was the real world. When it started singing an incredibly long (yet somehow catchy) song...well, even the ghosts floating around the hall were starting to seem normal to him (though he was planning on asking why phantoms of the dead were roaming the school). Even the ghosts, however, could not distract him from his thumping heart when the sorting began. Hannah Abbott became a Hufflepuff. Terry Boot became a Ravenclaw. After the Irish boy from earlier , actually named Seamus Finnegan, was welcomed into Gryffindor, Hermione followed suit shortly after (she looked rather surprised by the outcome but still happy). Draco Malfoy hadn't even put the hat on before he was sent over to the Slytherin table. Something similar happened with Matthew, who chose to sit down next to Hermione when he was made a lion. That was when Harry lost his focus, realising that his name was soon to be called.

The tables had all been cheering and applauding when students got allocated to them but they hadn't been entirely focused on the ceremony (most students more anxious to see what the feast would consist of) until Harry's name came out of McGonagall's mouth. The walk towards the stool felt like the longest he'd ever undertaken. If he'd been able to think about anything other than what was about to happen, Harry might have noticed that Albus Dumbledore was looking straight at him, but everyone else was too so he didn't give the famed wizard much notice.

"Oh, there's a lot of conflict in this mind."

Harry hadn't even realised that McGonagall had put the hat on his head, so engrossed in his internal strife he was. He didn't know what he had expected from the experience. How else would a magical hat manage to communicate with a living person if it didn't actually speak to them? How it worked, he had no idea. Magic, he thought, which he guessed was going to be the explanation for most of the things in this place.

"This is a difficult one," the hat continued. Harry could picture it scratching its chin...if it had one of course. "There's definitely a lot of courage. Brains too, even if you don't believe it. So much self doubt in this brain. You want to prove others wrong almost as much as you want to prove yourself wrong. I'd call that ambition. Slytherin always looks for the ambitious."

Harry froze, dreading where this was heading. Of all the Houses, why did it have to be that one? As soon as he heard of its existence, a part of him had known his fate was sealed. He couldn't have something so great, this access to another world, without a drawback. His life always had been unfair like that.

"You don't like the sound of that, do you?" Harry had forgotten about the mind reading aspect of this enterprise but wondered if he could use that to his advantage. "You could do great things in Slytherin, mark my words."

His mind wandered to his time at Ollivander's, when the old wizard had told him that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had done great things. Terrible things too. Was that the Slytherin part of him, the terrible aspects? Harry didn't want that. Harry had gone through so much pain that he didn't want to inflict any more on the world. He didn't want to be like the dark wizards he'd heard stories about. He didn't want his name to be whispered like it was a dirty curse, something to be feared. He wanted to be like the three people who had shown him compassion over the recent days, two of which were sitting at Gryffindor. Most of all, he wanted to be by their side.

"You have a strong conviction, boy. That will carry you far. So then, not Slytherin. I guess that only leaves...GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry didn't know how much time had passed since he'd sat down on the stool. To him, it had been quite a long conversation and so feared that the other students would have grown bored or anxious at the delay. But maybe the hat messed with the fabric of time too because no one looked disinterested. In fact, as soon as the word was uttered from the Sorting Hat, the House in question erupted in cheers, celebrating in the face of everyone else as if they had won something momentous. Harry felt entirely embarrassed by the whole thing since no one else had earned such a drastic reaction but he resigned himself to the fact that he would have to get used to this sort of thing. Hopefully the novelty would wear off after a few days and people would start treating him like a normal person. He could dream, at least.

What calmed him down was the sight of Matthew and Hermione standing up clapping as he approached, the former nudging a second year down the bench so he would be able to sit down next to them. He guided himself towards them, faintly aware of some of the crowd patting him on the back. When he eventually made it to his seat, wanting to blend in with the mass of bodies, he was greeted by the sight of two outstretched hands. Each one was owned by the same face, though they were on different bodies. Heads of shocking ginger hair met his eyes, two older boys looking at him with large, almost predatory, smiles.

"I'm Fred Weasley," the one on the left said.

"I'm George, his more attractive brother," the other quipped.

"We're very happy that you joined us on this table. You made a great decision, one we won't let you regret."

"We just wanted to let you know that, as long as you're a proud lion, we'll have your back. No one will mess with you when we're looking."

Harry wasn't sure what that really meant but he was grateful for any help he could get so shook both their hands in turn. He was worried that the rest of the table would want to talk to him too but McGonagall's rather severe expression, telling everyone that she wanted to carry on with proceedings and definitely didn't appreciate the hold up, gave him a reprieve. He happily watched as the last few pupils were sorted. The ginger boy from earlier, apparently related to the twins he'd just interacted with, was the last to be sent to their table, with the ceremony finishing with Blaise Zabini walking over to Slytherin.

During the process, Harry had looked over at the Head Table properly for the first time. He spotted Hagrid (no one could really miss his giant frame), who attempted to wave at him as inconspicuously as possible. A woman draped in a shawl with curly hair, large eyes, and even larger glasses didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. Professor Quirrell, the one he'd met in the Leaky Cauldron, had the most absurd turban upon his head (Harry had subconsciously started rubbing at his scar for some reason at that point). Dumbledore should have been the main figure that caught his attention, mainly because of his terrible dress sense (would he be expected to dress like that when he left school?), yet it was a gaunt man with greasy black hair that Harry was most interested in, since that particular faculty member was looking past his hooked nose straight towards him. He found that he couldn't drag his eyes away from the man's imposing glare, only doing so when the Headmaster stood up to address them.

"A very hearty welcome to Hogwarts for those who have walked these corridors for the very first time today," he began, his voice booming across the chamber. Even without using magic, Harry got the sense of how powerful he really was. "To those who are returning, I sincerely hope that it is as good as you remember. Now, I will not take up any more of your time. I remember the years when I was a student, too long ago for me to dare consider, and how hungry I was after a long train journey. So...tuck in!"

Harry was momentarily confused. He had picked up on the golden plates arranged across the long table but had definitely not spotted any food. If he had done, there was no way he would have stopped himself from sneaking a bite. But, from the time it took him to blink after Dumbledore's greeting, heaps of food of different varieties had appeared before them, piles of culinary perfection that danced across his senses. Harry didn't know where to start. He chose slices of ham and turkey, smothered in gravy with roast potatoes and (surprisingly since he wasn't being made to) a healthy amount of vegetables. Matthew had gone for a toad in the hole, Hermione opting for a bowl of stew. They chatted between mouthfuls, occasionally pausing to stare at the floating ghosts in equal parts fear and fascination. Mainly, Harry listened to the students around him. Seamus spoke of his ancestry, being proud of his half-blood nature. Neville Longbottom, the timid boy scared of the lake, was a pureblood, though it seemed his magical abilities had been questioned for a number of years. He'd managed to get a name out of the ginger boy (Ron) whilst he shoved his mouth full of food, which Hermione had appeared most disgusted at. The meal itself was the best Harry could remember and was sure that his pants had shrunk when he eventually forced himself to stop eating. The buzz and energy of the Great Hall, the night sky magically reflected above them, was contagious and he found himself laughing along to strange tales and listening intently to any information he could gather from nearby older students. He could get used to this indeed.

xxxxxxxxxx

Once the feast reached its natural conclusion (Harry was sure that the boy named Ron would have continued eating into night if the desserts hadn't ultimately vanished) and Dumbledore had given a longer, much more ominous, speech, they were sent off to their common rooms. Percy Weasley (how many were there in this one family?!) was their designated prefect, a pompous boy who seemed to enjoy being able to order them around. Ignoring one altercation with a pesky poltergeist and Harry almost walking up a staircase that would lose random steps at will, it was a fairly uneventful journey through Hogwarts. Most of them were understandably tired and the thought of classes in the morning was beginning to weigh on them. Harry, however, was still feeling energised, with everything feeling fresh and new. He couldn't believe how most of them didn't bat an eyelid when portraits started talking to them, including the fat lady that guarded their house sanctuary. He could understand those who had grown up with magic around them but even the likes of Hermione just looked at them with mild curiosity at most. He had to presume, in his new friend's case, that she had already read an entire book about the sentience of certain paintings. It was another reminder for him to ask for recommendations, so he didn't feel as far behind the student body as he currently did.

The common room itself was decorated in the colours of the house, curtains of red and gold lining the windows, with red sofas and chairs dotted around the place. A fireplace was waiting for them, already roaring and basking the room in a warm hue that made Harry fairly sleepy. Once inside, the majority of the Gryffindors wandered up to their bedrooms, looking for an early night to prepare for the morning start that hung over their shoulders. Matthew wasn't such a person, instead walking over to an armchair and plonking himself down. He let out a long groan as he stretched out, allowing his walking stick to lean lazily against his seat.

"This is my armchair from now on," he sighed contentedly. "I'm claiming it. If I find anyone else sitting in it, I won't be held responsible for my actions." He held his hands out to the fire, warming them up. He already looked natural in the setting.

"I don't think you can claim a chair," Hermione said, standing off to one side. "It's a communal area. It's in the name."

"I'd like to see the person who'd try and stop me," he replied, eyeing the girl up. "Is that person you?"

Neither Hermione or Harry knew whether his implied threat was genuine. It was quite apparent that it would be difficult to know when he was being serious or not. Hermione copied Matthew in sitting down, not backing down from the challenge. Harry was enjoying the dynamic that was forming between them as he lay down on the same sofa as the bushy haired girl.

"I'm not scared of you. I hope you know that."

Matthew chuckled. "Then it's no wonder you made it to Gryffindor."

She seemed to swell with pride after his remark, as if it justified her work and dedication leading up to this day. "I can't believe we get to start lessons tomorrow." Harry was sure that she was the first child he'd ever heard say such a thing. "What are you looking forward to the most? I think I'll find transfiguration interesting but then charms will be equally as fascinating."

Harry blanched as his lack of knowledge resurfaced once more. "I...don't know. I don't really...know a lot about the subjects."

Matthew appeared to sense his discomfort. "That's okay. That's the point of doing lessons in the first place. It'd be no fun if you knew everything beforehand. Though, if you can call lessons fun is another matter entirely."

Hermione let out a huff. "They are fun! We're getting taught by some of the best wizards and witches in the country. We should be grateful."

"It's just that...I've missed out on so much in the magical world," Harry said, ignoring the impassioned support of the Hogwarts curriculum. "What if, by tomorrow, I find out that I'm no good. What if I can't even do magic? What happens then? I don't want to go back home." To him, Hogwarts was already more like a home than the Dursleys ever had been.

"It's perfectly natural to have these nerves," Matthew assured him, sitting forward. "Consider the number of muggleborns that have come here. They would have been just as concerned as you. But they lasted seven years and so will you."

"It's why I surrounded myself with books," Hermioned added shyly. "I didn't want to be at a disadvantage. I was so nervous when I walked through the barrier at King's Cross. I'd said goodbye to my parents on the...normal side. I've never been separated from them before so it was a huge step for me." She wiped away a tear furiously, as if it made her seem weaker. Harry thought it made her appear more genuine, something more than her facade of the bookworm. He hadn't even considered how difficult it would be for students who actually enjoyed their home life.

"They'll be very proud of you," Matthew told her with a soft smile.

"What about your family?" Harry asked him. "You haven't mentioned them a lot."

The smile on his face disappeared and he looked into the fire, searching for the adequate words. "They were like a normal family despite being completely the opposite. They wanted me to be the best of them, which is why I'm here now."

"You're talking in the past tense," Hermione noted. "Are they…" She couldn't finish the question, feeling it was too personal, especially when she'd known him less than a day (it somehow felt much longer). He didn't answer but, from his demeanour, they knew what the response would have been. "What do you do then? Outside of Hogwarts, I mean. There must be someone you live with." She worried at her bottom lip, feeling sorry for the boy. From the look on his face, that was the last thing he wanted.

"I manage," he responded simply, attempting to smile. "I wander and travel. But I'm happy to be here, talking to you two, like a normal kid for once. I'm glad I bumped into you both."

"So am I," Hermione concurred. "Especially because my trunk was so heavy."

The three shared a quiet laugh and Harry was quite sure it was the most content he had been as far as he could remember.

"Speaking of trunks, I should probably go and unpack my things. Early start tomorrow. Hogwarts life begins in earnest."

"I should too. I want to see what my bed looks like too." Hermione let out a small gasp. "I wonder if I have a bookshelf!" The two stood up, leaving Harry as the only one still sitting.

"Are you coming up yet?"

He considered it for a moment. "In a minute. It'll be quite hectic in there anyway right now."

Matthew nodded his head. "Good night then, Harry."

"See you in the morning," Hermione echoed similar sentiments before stopping. "I'd just like to say thanks too. To you both. I was scared that I'd be quite lonely on my first day so...it was nice to have company."

"A truer word never said, Miss Granger." Matthew began to lead her away with a wave back to Harry. He was the last one in the common room now. He sauntered over to the window, looking out at the scenery before him. He was at Hogwarts. He was an official student. He thought about the day that had whizzed by. The train journey, the boat trip, the sorting ceremony. The friends he had already made, who seemed to have been just as isolated as him before coming here. It made him feel connected to the pair, like they were facing Hogwarts together, as a united front. And Harry was up for the challenge.