In the weeks following the trip to Diagon Alley, his owl became the second most useful thing he'd got to date. He named her Hedwig, after the thirteenth century Bavarian witch, Hedwig of Selesia, he read about in A History of Magic. In addition to being a witch, she was also the Catholic patron saint of orphans. Harry found that last bit hilariously ironic.
The snakes, of course, hated her. Morgan was particularly put out by Hedwig's presence. Not that Hedwig much seemed to care for the snakes. She hooted and snapped at them. He had to bribe Morgan off biting her, and lamented the fact that he couldn't talk to owls the same way he could to snakes.
Magic, he was learning, could do a lot. So, at dinner a few nights later, he asked James about it.
"Is it possible to speak to animals?"
"Not exactly," James said, eying him suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"
"I was reading a book about different abilities, and it made me curious. It's common in muggle stories," Harry said.
It was a good lie, as he wasn't quite ready to reveal the snakes.
"Ah, well. There aren't any charms or potions that would make it possible. A long time ago, there was a family that could speak to snakes, they were descended from Slytherin's bloodline. It's a dark ability though, and the last known person that could was You-Know-Who, not that anyone knows just how he gained that ability," James said softly.
Harry didn't exactly have to fake his disappointment. "I was hoping I could talk to Hedwig," he said. And he vowed to keep the snakes and the fact that he could talk to them completely secret.
James laughed. "I think every child has wished they could talk to their pet at one point or another."
Harry let the subject change to something lighter, and let it go.
Hiss and Corra barely spent time around anymore. They spent all of their time sleeping or exploring. They had even found a crack that led outside, and spent days at a time in the garden. So he only had to worry about keeping Hedwig and Morgan apart.
Luckily, Hedwig spent most of her time ferrying letters back and forth between him and Neville. It was strange, having a friend. Neville's letters were mostly spent answering questions Harry had about the wizarding world, and offering advice. Admittedly, Neville didn't get out much, as his Gran rarely let him leave, except to visit the Potters or one of the few acquaintances she felt were safe for him to visit. Even so, he ended up with a whole host of new things to ask James about at their daily semi-forced bonding sessions.
Not that they were completely awful. Some afternoons, they worked on potions. Mostly, it was James going over safety procedures and explaining what their purpose was. There were potions for everything from medicine to beauty regimens to unfathomable magic. Next to the intricate and expansive history of wizards, it was becoming his favourite subject. James helped him brew a simple bruise balm one day, while teaching him some of their ancestors secrets.
Other times, they would fly. Most of the time they just sat and talked. James told stories from his school days, from his work as an Auror, or from Alex growing up. He rarely told Harry about his mother or his time fighting during the war. When he wasn't telling stories, he answered whatever questions Harry threw at him. Preparing questions beforehand became necessary very quickly. Even still, there was very little about James' beliefs or anything truly personal, and it made it hard for Harry to get a read on him.
James had tried to include Alex three different times, to disastrous results. The last time, Alex attempted to shove Harry from his broom and broke his own arm in the process. James gave up on forcing them together after that. He spent the evening before dinner with Harry, and after dinner with Alex.
With James at work all day though, they were stuck together in the house. And with Alex grounded, literally, as his broom had been confiscated, he had taken to trying to hunt Harry down for entertainment.
After they returned from the shopping trip, Alex had been dragged down to James's office. The screaming match between the two of them echoed through the empty house. Then Alex had threatened Harry, saying something about how he wished his brother really had died. He blamed everything on Harry, saying Harry was the one that ditched him. Dudley had been an expert on blaming Harry for everything. James, thankfully, wasn't as stupid as the Dursleys. Instead of not being allowed to fly or see his friends for two weeks, Alex wasn't allowed to do anything except study or read until school started. He couldn't even write them. Things had been thrown when James even took away his Wireless.
Alex's maliciousness was renewed. So, Harry spent most of his time in the servant's quarters, locked behind three doors, only emerging after James returned from work.
It took less than a day to explore the other rooms, as there wasn't much to be found. When the house had been abandoned centuries ago, everything but the furniture had been cleared out.
For two whole days, he read his new books, before remembering he now had a wand. He could attempt the spells he'd been learning about. The very first one he learned was the locking charm, colloportus. To his surprise, it worked almost instantly. He was so thrilled he would be able to lock Alex out, he didn't realise he'd locked himself in. The unlocking charm was harder, and left him exhausted by the time he finally got it.
He learned a few more spells after that. Some were easier, others harder. Even easier were the hexes, which he could use on Alex if he had to. They would be a last resort though.
In the last few days of August, Alex finally grew bored, and Harry was able to explore one of the upstairs rooms before he had to turn his attention to packing.
The smallest bedroom was long and narrow, with an enchanted window at the far end. At one time, the walls had been a deep burgundy, but the colours had faded with time. Every inch of the room was covered in layers of dusty cobwebs. The grime covered furniture was left to decay beneath the haphazardly thrown belongings scattered about the room.
"Come look at this," Morgan said excitedly from between two large and ugly mirrors that were wedged up against a pock-marked dressing table.
After so much time cooped up in the new room, lazing in her new spot, she'd decided to accompany him as he explored.
Harry slid one of the mirrors aside to find her admiring the skeleton of a rat. Bits of grey fur still clung to the bones.
"That's disgusting," he said.
"It's beautiful!"
Harry made a disgusted noise. As much as he loved her, he was half wishing she wouldn't have come. Instead of looking for things he found interesting, Harry had spent the last hour chasing the snake through the dust.
"You're no fun, Master-Speaker," she told him.
With a sigh, Harry collected the skeleton for her. He'd use it to decorate the basket with the self-warming stone he'd gotten from a pet shop in Diagon Alley. He really wanted a shower after this.
"Come on," he said, and moved deeper into the room.
"I hate all of this dust," she complained.
"Then go back to our room," Harry snapped.
"But we're finding so many cool things."
Cool things, she said. Harry groaned. They'd found rat skeletons, half broken bird eggs that were extremely brittle, and a bunch of other gross things Morgan wanted. He was tired of collecting dead things, and he really wanted a shower.
With her prize in the makeshift bag draped around Harry's shoulder, Morgan slipped away. And Harry slipped on a candlestick that had rolled off the table when he moved the mirror. He went down hard, knocking his arm against a trunk.
It was the same size and shape as his new school trunk, but instead of brown and bronze, it was made of a dark wood with black leather detailing and silver hardware. In place of the latch and lock, there was something that looked similar to an old combination lock. He wiped the dust away, and instead of letters or numbers there were little symbols. There was a book, a desk, a robe, a small depiction of a trunk, and a key lock. Intrigued, Harry lifted the lid.
The notch on the dial was pointing to the tiny trunk, and inside, there was a small tray with old parchment and inkwells. A couple of ancient cloaks were stored in the bottom. He tried turning the dial. It wouldn't budge. After poking at it for a moment, he closed the lid and tried again. He spun the dial to the robe.
When he opened it again, everything inside was completely different. Instead of a standard, if too large interior, there was an entire wardrobe. He tilted it on its side, and a clothing rack popped out of one side. At the bottom of the rack was a small shelf the length of the rack. On the opposite side, there was a small mirror set back on another shelf. Above and below it were several drawers filled with what appeared to be outdated men's robes and jewellery.
He shut the lid and spun the dial again. The book meant library. A dozen shelves on either side of the trunk appeared, with two shelves full of books. The desk led him to a section that had a desk that pulled out when it was upturned, just like the wardrobe. There were storage spaces all around it. The lock seemed to lock the trunk, and a space to insert a key appeared.
He searched the trunk then the room for the rest of the day before he finally found the right key. He pulled a charm off one of the leather strings in the wardrobe compartment, and put the key on it. Then he slipped it over his neck.
Thankfully, the trunk weighed very little, and other than having to manoeuvre its awkward size, it was relatively easy to get back to his room.
September First dawned bright and early. Harry slept in, skipping his morning flight, and joined James at eight o'clock, fully dressed in plain dark grey traditional robes with gold stitching.
To his credit, James managed not to frown at the robes for the first time since he started wearing them. Almost everything he ordered from Twilfit and Tattings had been in the traditional style.
"How much packing do you have left?" James asked as soon as he sat down.
"I've been completely packed since yesterday. Only had to slip my pyjamas in this morning.." Harry told him as he dug in.
All summer, he'd had a light breakfast. His plate was piled high, with at least three times his usual amount.
"I guess that makes you the responsible one," James said while checking his watch.
If James was just now noticing he was more responsible than Alex, he needed his eyes checked, Harry thought.
"I'm going to get him," James sighed.
James left. A few minutes later, he returned with a dishevelled Alex trailing behind him. Alex yawned widely before flopping into his seat.
"Eat up. You won't have another proper meal until you get to the school," James told them.
Alex grumbled something unintelligible, but began shovelling food into his face. Harry wanted to push his plate away.
When they were done, James said, "Alright boys, we're leaving at ten. I want you waiting by the floo no later than a quarter 'till."
Harry slipped off to the library. Having free reign, or at least free reign when he could access it, would be one of the only things he would miss. Well, that and Mippy, as students were not allowed to bring any personal or family elves to the school. It made sense, even if Alex had been upset by it.
The Starter Guide to Brewing Potions and Potions for Beginners both went into his new leather school bag. He also added a few more history books. It was amazing that it never got any heavier, regardless of how much he stuffed into it.
An hour later, he raced upstairs and helped Morgan into one of the pockets along with a blanket and her rock. Then he raced down the stairs.
Hiss and Corra hadn't wanted to leave their new home so soon, so Harry had let them loose in the garden the night before. He'd set up a small nest for them in the abandoned greenhouse. They had plenty of soft bedding and their own self-warming rocks to nap on.
Mippy had delivered his trunk, the one he'd found, not the one James had bought, to the entrance hall. It was packed full of almost everything he owned. He wasn't bringing the books he didn't understand yet, nor did he pack any of the bloodstained ones. Everything else though, including the bejewelled dagger, had been crammed into it. Alex's trunk waited next to his. On James's advice, Harry had sent Hedwig ahead to the school when he'd woken up that morning.
Standing next to the trunks were three men, two of which he vaguely recognized from the birthday party. Those two were dressed in the small black and silver robes James usually wore to work, but they had short red cloaks draped over their shoulders.
The other man was older than the others by at least a couple of decades. Instead of Auror's robes, he wore a black travelling cloak over grimy brown and faded black robes. He had a long grizzled mane of dark grey hair. Even stranger than his hair or clothes was his face.
He'd seen old, weathered wood carvings of faces at the museum before, but the man's looked like it had been carved by someone with no skill, who didn't know what a face should look like. His entire face was covered in scars of varying sizes and shapes, all criss crossing over one another. His mouth was lopsided, slashing diagonally across his face.
His eyes were the most frightening part. One was small and dark, while the other was set into a golden circle strapped across his face. It was large and electric blue. The blue eye rolled round and round, in all different directions, even rolling backwards, looking into the back of the man's head.
Peeking beneath the man's robes was the end of a carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.
He was leaning against a tall walking stick, with his normal eye focused on the conversation next to him. When Harry fully emerged into the room, the blue eye focused on him and stopped moving for a whole minute. It felt as though the man was staring into Harry's soul.
Harry resisted the urge to shiver.
Not wanting to approach the strange man, Harry leaned against a wall, as far across the room he could get. And waited.
"You should have started last night," he had James admonishing five minutes later as he and Alex came down the stairs. "We're out of time, and you'll just have to wait for me to owl it to you."
"You're late. Let's go," the stranger growled.
"We're right on time, Moody," James said.
James took a moment to introduce Harry to all of them, with Moody impatiently tapping his wooden foot.
All three were Aurors. Emil Proudfoot, the blond one, had been James's partner before he was appointed Deputy Head Auror. The other one was Gawain Robards, who had the highest arrest rate in the past six years. And Alastor Moody had led the charge against the Death Eaters in the last war. He'd been the second most deadly fighter the Ministry had at the time. And He'd been James's mentor both during the war, and after, as James made a name for himself as an Auror.
"We were able to keep a low profile in Diagon Alley, so the security detail stayed out of sight," James told them. "But every witch and wizard knows we'll be on the platform today."
Harry had never even noticed they were being followed.
"Alex, Harry, stay close until you're on the train," James said.
Moody snapped at them to get a move on. Proudfoot and Robards went through the floo first, followed by James. Mippy vanished with their trunks.
"Into the floo, boy," Moody snapped at Harry.
Harry resisted the urge to snap back at the man. He hitched his bag tighter over his shoulder.
"King's Cross," Harry called out and stepped into the floo. He vanished in a sickening green whirl.
And was spit out into absolute chaos. James managed to catch him before he fell onto his face in front of dozens of bright flashes.
They were tucked into a small alcove, with half a dozen fireplaces set into the walls around them. Being held back by the two Aurors were reporters and cameramen, all crammed on top of one another.
Alex came through the floo a second later, followed quickly by Moody.
"Stay close, boys," James said as they began pushing their way through the crowd.
Moody was shouting coarsely at the people, shoving a hole between them large enough for them to walk.
"Excited for your first year, Mr. Potter," A woman in bright green with pale blond hair in rigid curls asked loudly.
"What house are you hoping to sort into?" A man with black hair asked.
Another camera flash went off, temporarily blinding Harry.
"Move," growled Moody as he shoved them all out of the way.
"What's your opinion on the Articat Bill, Mr. Potter?" another called.
On and on the shouting went.
"Don't talk to anyone, just keep moving," James said, keeping his voice low.
Harry, who had no intention of talking to the reporters, kept close.
They stepped out of the alcove and onto the platform. There were even more people there. All of them crowded around, belongings forgotten, to get a look at Alex. He smiled and waved at all of them.
Behind the people, a scarlet steam engine was waiting next to the platform. A sign overhead said, Hogwarts Express, Eleven O'Clock.
Harry glanced back, to where Proudfoot was following. The wrought-iron archway they had emerged next to had the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it.
More than just onlookers, students and their families were quickly filling the platform. Smoke drifted from the engine overhead. Cats of every colour wound between people's legs while owls hooted, disgruntled in their cages. It was deafeningly loud.
They stopped moving just next to the train.
"Wait here," Moody said, and stepped onto the train.
Proudfoot and Robards moved to either side of the Potters, who were now bracketed in with their backs next to the train. They weren't exactly blocking people, but it kept anyone from getting too close. There was still shouting and camera flashes from all around them.
James turned his attention from the crowds of people to them. "Alex, Harry, I want the two of you to study hard, but don't forget to have fun," he said. "Hogwarts will be the greatest experience of your lives."
Harry tuned him out. A heartfelt speech about how much he loved them and James's glory days as a student wasn't something he was interested in.
"Dad, what about the.." Alex started to say.
James interrupted him. "No. It's…complicated now. We'll talk about it at Christmas," he said.
Alex pouted and started to whine.
Harry blinked at them, trying to figure out what they were talking about.
Moody returned then, and gave them the all clear to board the train.
"Go on, before it starts filling up," he said, and tried to pull the two boys into a hug.
Harry slipped aside, taking his trunk from Mippy, who was looking at him with tears in her overly large eyes.
"Mippy will miss Little Master Harry," she said.
"I'll miss you too," he said.
Then he boarded the train.
Moody made him wait for Alex.
There were already students converging on the compartments. They passed through a couple of large, open seating sections with pad covered wooden benches set around tables. Older students were climbing around, shouting at their families from windows and fighting over seats. Laughter echoed around them.
Moody led them halfway down the train, to an empty compartment, put their trunks on the racks. He shouted at them to be safe, then left. Harry watched as he limped back down the train car, his wooden leg clunking as he went.
"Get out," Alex snapped as soon as the Auror was out of ear shot.
"Make me," Harry said and flopped down onto the bench.
Alex went to lunge at him. Harry had his wand ready in his pocket. A stinging hex landed on Alex, who screeched.
"I'm good here," Harry said. "You can leave."
Alex huffed, but grabbed his trunk and stormed away.
Harry let himself relax. The compartment was cosy, with a glass door trimmed in wood that slid closed on one side, and a large window on the other. Above the light blue velvet seats were white walls with wood trim that matched the door. It was lit by four small lamps with balls of light inside.
He sat his bag on the seat next to him and checked on Morgan.
"It's uncomfortable," she complained.
"When we get to the school, I'll let you out," he promised.
"Then I'm going back to sleep," she said.
He let her. With Alex now safely aboard the train, James was holding court with the press when Harry glanced out the window.
The platform was so packed, people could barely move around. A family of redheads came bustling onto the platform. The dumpy mother, dressed in faded floral robes, was fussing over the youngest of the boys, while a small girl chattered excitedly next to her.
The two identical ones ran off, meeting up with a boy with dreadlocks, surrounded by a small crown.
"Give us a look, Lee, go on," one of the twins said.
The boy lifted the lid of the box he was holding to shrieks and yells. A long hairy leg poked out.
He spotted Neville and his grandmother not far away. Lady Longbottom ushered him onto the train after a terse goodbye/
Neville had arranged to sit with Harry through the owls they sent back and forth. He was struggling with his trunk when he found Harry.
"Let me help," Harry said. The two of them struggled to lift it onto the rack next to Harry's.
Neville flopped down across from Harry's seat and began rummaging through his pockets/
"I can't find Trevor," he said, tears gathering in his eyes.
"The toad?" Harry asked.
"Yea."
"Let things calm down, then we'll try to find him," Harry said.
"I guess."
Harry glanced back out the window. The last few students were climbing onto the train. All along the train, people leaned out the windows, shouting at their families.
The engine whistled and the carriage lurched, then they were pulling away from the station. They rounded a corner and were moving through London.
A few minutes later, the door to the compartment opened, and Neville's friend from the party, Susan, came in. Following behind her was a girl with blond pigtails.
"We've been looking for you everywhere, Neville," Susan said.
"I didn't see you on the platform," Neville told her.
"You remember Hannah," Susan said, gesturing to her friend.
"Hi, Hannah," Neville looked at Harry, who was sitting back, watching them. "Oh, right! Susan, Hannah, this is Harry Potter.
"Well met, Heir Potter," Susan said. "We met briefly at the party. Heir Susan of House Bones." She had a look of displeasure on her face as she said the last part.
"Hannah, of House Abbott," the other girl said.
"Well met," Harry said to both of them. The words still felt strange to say.
"Please don't make us do that again. It's so…" Susan said.
"Formal. Outdated. Stuffy?" Hannah suggested.
"Makes me feel old," Susan settled on.
Both girls giggled.
Hannah didn't have her trunk with her, but they all helped Susan add hers to the rack.
"So, Harry, where's your brother at?" Susan asked.
"How should I know? We barely speak," Harry told her.
"Good enough for me," Susan said.
"He'll probably come bother us at some point," Neville said.
"Lovely," Susan said.
Hannah didn't stay long. "I'm going to check on Fay and Mandy," she said as she left.
Harry settled in as Susan and Neville talked. A few minutes later, the door opened again. Standing in the doorway was a girl with lots of busy brown hair, wearing muggle jeans. She held the handle of her trunk tightly in one hand.
"Can I sit here?" she asked cautiously.
Neville and Hannah glanced at him.
Harry looked at the girl. By the way she was dressed, she had to be muggleborn. He felt for her. In another life, he could have been like her. It was hard, being dropped into a world he didn't understand. But Harry had the benefit of getting an in depth crash course over the last month. The girl likely only had whatever books she was able to get.
"Sure," he said, and smiled at her.
The girl beamed at them, showing large, crooked teeth.
Introductions were made, the odd formal titles dropped for the girl.
"Pooter? Any relation to Alexander Potter?" she asked excitedly, when Harry gave his name.
"Unfortunately," he said.
Hermione looked at him, appalled at the derision in his voice.
"Alex is a prat," Susan told her.
"But he saved everyone! I read all about it in the extra background books I bought." Hermione's voice had taken on a bossy sort of tone. "There's so much written about him.
"Doesn't make him less of a prat," Harry pointed out. "I think it all went to his overly large head."
Neville snorted.
"Well, that's disappointing," she said.
She glanced at the prep book sitting on the bench next to Harry, and got excited all over again.
"I didn't know there were prep books!" she said.
"You can read it, if you want," Harry offered.
"Oh, that would be wonderful."
While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of the city. They were speeding past fields full of sheep.
Harry pulled out one of the history books he'd brough, and they were all quiet for a while.
Around half past twelve, there was a clattering in the corridor. A smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
They all went to grab a few sweets.
"I don't recognize any of these!" Hermione cried. "And I so rarely get to have sweets."
Harry got extras of several of his favourites, and shared them with her.
"Why don't you get sweets often?" he asked.
"My parents are dentists," she said.
"Dentists?" Susan and Neville both asked.
Hermione looked confused.
"They're like, er, healers for teeth," Harry explained.
Neither of them looked less confused, but they accepted it.
"Do you like jelly beans?" Harry asked her.
"Oh, I love them."
"Try these," Harry said and passed her a box.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" she asked.
"They're like jelly beans, but they can be anything. My first one was pepper, but some of them are really good," Harry explained.
"Be careful though. Some are exceptionally awful," Neville warned.
"I haven't eaten them since I got a toe jam flavoured one." Susan looked a little green as she said it.
They all laughed.
Their door opened again, and Daphne was standing there. "I knew I heard you," she said. "Hello, Harry."
"Daphne, join us," Harry invited.
"Sure. Tracey here thought you were Alex," Daphne said.
Tracey was a pale girl with straight black hair hanging halfway down her back. They all scooted over to make space.
"Daph was hoping your compartment was quieter than ours," Tracey said.
"We ended up sharing with Parkinson and Malfoy. He's almost as bad as Alex," Daphne explained.
"Almost? Malfoy's awful," Susan said.
"Malfoy will just insult you and brag about how much better than simply everyone he is. He's mostly harmless, if annoying," Daphne said.
"Alex tends to…attack people," Susan finished.
"Is he really that awful?" Hermione asked.
Everyone assured her that yes, he was.
Hermione went back to devouring the prep book, while Neville and Susan went back to talking about something Harry hadn't been listening to. Tracey joined them. Daphne pulled a fashion magazine out of her pocket, so Harry turned back to his book.
The countryside was not flying past the window, becoming wilder. The neat fields gave way to woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.
"Trevor!" Neville suddenly shouted. "We forgot about him!"
All the girls look at him in confusion.
Guilt flooded through Harry. He had completely forgotten about telling Neville he would help look for the toad. After explaining who Trevor was, Hermione volunteered to help look for him. That worked perfectly well for Harry, as he didn't want to wander the train and risk another confrontation with Alex.
"Give me one minute," she said. Then she climbed up on the seat and pulled her school robes out of her trunk. She tossed the cloak on over her muggle clothing, and turned to Neville. "Let's go," she said.
Once the door closed behind them, Susan turned to Daphne. "I'm shocked you joined us, Greengrass."
"Hey!" Tracey said.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Daphne asked darkly.
"Given your family's…views on things. I mean, two blood traitors, the brother of the boy who lived, and a muggleborn," Susan said sharply.
"I hadn't noticed," Daphne drawled.
"Sure you didn't."
"My parents were neutral, during the war," Daphne snapped.
"She's not a blood purist," Tracey said defensively. "I'm a halfblood, and we've been best friends since we were two!"
"If you're going to fight, you can leave," Harry said, stopping the argument before it could go any farther. "Do either of you actually know each other?"
"Well, no but.."
Honestly, Harry thought better of Susan, but he was starting to reconsider.
"Aunt Amelia doesn't exactly get along with House Greengrass," Susan admitted. "We only ever see each other in passing at the big ministry family events."
"House Greengrass and House Bones have very different social circles," Tracey added.
"Obviously," Harry drawled.
It was only half a lie. There was some undercurrent of tension he didn't quite understand.
"I'm sorry," Susan said without prompting. "Let's start over. Heir Susan of House Bones."
"Well met. Heir Daphne of House Greengrass," Daphne said.
"I don't have a fancy title, sorry. My Dad's an artisan," Tracy said.
"Well met, Heir Greengrass, Miss Davis," Susan said. Then she added, "Is that today's issue of Witch Weekly? Mine didn't arrive before we had to leave.
All three girls turned their attention to the magazine, and began gossiping about the articles in it.
Harry was nearly done with the History book by the time Neville and Hermione returned.
"People are so rude!" Hermione said slamming into the compartment.
"Any luck?" Harry asked Neville.
"We couldn't find him anywhere," Neville said dejectedly.
He fell onto the bench while Hermione ushered another girl next to him. Their compartment was starting to feel cramped.
"This is Padma," Hermione said, gesturing to the girl. "She was complaining about how loud the people she was sitting with were, and we told her she could join us," Hermione said in a rush.
"Nice to meet you all," Padma said.
She had golden brown skin, a few shades darker than James' and Alex's, with long, shining black hair. Instead of robes like Harry's or Tracey's more modern cut, or even Hermione's own muggle clothing, Padma wore a long, bright purple tunic with thin silver stripes over matching trousers. She had on matching silver slipper-like shoes.
There was a chorus of greetings.
"Why were people rude?" Susan asked Hermione.
"I was asking around, trying to find out more about the sorting, and people were just so dismissive. Do any of you know which house you'll be in? I hope I'm in Gryffindor. It sounds, by far, the best. I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad." Hermione said it all in a single breath.
Daphne looked horrified. The other looked as stunned as Harry felt.
Susan recovered first. "No one knows until the ceremony," she explained. "I'm hoping for Hufflepuff myself."
"Hufflepuff! Why would you want Hufflepuff?" Daphne questioned.
"Well, for one thing, my family traditionally goes there, but also, I think I'd like to be Minister one day. All our best Ministers have been Hufflepuffs."
Harry didn't know that, but it was a fair answer.
"I'll likely join you there, much to Gran's disappointment," Neville said. "She wants me to go to Gryffindor."
"Personally, I want Ravenclaw," Padma told them. "But I'll settle for any house my sister isn't in. I love her to death, but I think we'd kill one another if we had to share a room."
"Even Slytherin?" Daphne asked. She said it slowly, testing how the others reacted. Her eyes stared Padma down.
"Sure. Snakes are sacred in Hinduism. It would be an honour to be part of the House of the Serpent," Padma said.
Daphne smiled victoriously. "Well said."
Neville looked nervous.
"Isn't Slytherin evil though?" Hermione asked.
Neville blinked wildly.
Daphne turned to glare at Hermione. "What would you know about it?" she snapped.
Tracey rolled her eyes.
"I read all about it in the books I bought," she said defensively.
"Your books are wrong. It's all overly progressive propaganda from the Ministry," Daphne snapped. "Was Merlin evil? What about Ursus Mungo or Leta Lestrange, who died trying to stop Grindelwald in the early days of his war? Is my father evil?"
"But.."
"If a house was actually evil, I'm sure it would have been disbanded," Harry said. "Besides, I would rather like to go to Slytherin, though James thinks I'll sort Ravenclaw."
"A Potter in Slytherin? It would certainly shake things up," Tracey said. "I don't have any idea where I want to know, but I'd rather not Gryffindor. I've heard it's loud."
Daphne was still glaring at Hermione who looked back at her just as fiercely.
Before things could go any farther, there was a knock on the door. An older student, one of the redheads Harry had seen, poked his head in the door. He wore his uniform with the Gryffindor crest on one side, and a small golden pin with a large "P" on the other.
"You all best get changed into your uniforms. We'll be arriving in about thirty minutes," the boy said and disappeared.
Harry glanced out the window. It was getting dark. They were passing through mountains and forests with a deep-purple sky overhead. The train did seem to be slowing down.
"We'll be back," Daphne said.
She and Tracy left, followed by Padma a moment later. Their trunks had been left wherever they had been before joining Harry and Neville.
The boys stepped outside to allow Susan and Hermione to change. Then they switched places.
By the time the rest of the girls returned, a voice was echoing through the train.
"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."
They all looked at one another nervously. He packed his books up, and checked on Morgan one last time before leaving the bag on the seat. He prayed no one checked the bag and found her.
The train slowed to a stop, and they joined the stream of people pushing their way towards the door. They emerged onto a small platform. A handful of old stone and wattle and daub buildings stood on one side. A tall, stone footbridge with red wooden railings crossed over the train. It was dark, with only a handful of lanterns lighting the way. Harry shivered in the cold air.
Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" a giant of a man called in a loud, thick West-Country accent. He held the lantern up, far over their heads. "C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!'"
Slipping and stumbling on the damp stone path, they followed the giant off the side of the platform and down a steep, narrow path. Down they went, the darkness growing around them, following the glowing lantern. Nobody spoke much. Neville and Harry held on to one another to keep from falling over.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!" in front of them.
The narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black late. In the distance, perched atop a sloping mountain was a massive castle with turrets and towers dotting its roof. The brightly lit windows sparkled under the starry sky.
"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant called, pointing to a fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore.
Daphne and Tracy followed him and Neville onto the short pier and into a boat. Hermione, Susan, and Padma climbed into the one next to it. They were joined by a girl that looked just like Padma. He could see Alex farther down the line, climbing into one with Ernie, a tall boy with red hair, and a giggling girl. He seemed to be arguing with a boy that had hair so pale and blond it nearly glowed in the moonlight. Two boys that looked sort of like Dudley, and a small girl with short dark hair joined him.
"Everyone in?" shouted the giant, who had a boat to himself, "Right then – FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved all at once, gliding forwards across the smooth as glass lake. Everyone was silent as the boats moved, all of them staring up at the glittering castle. It rose into the sky from the edge of a cliff like some great beast.
As they sailed beneath it, the giant yelled out, "Heads down!"
They all bent their heads as the little boats passed beneath a curtain of ivy hanging down from the cliff's face.
The still water carried them through a long, dark tunnel to an underground harbour. They all clambered out of the boats onto rock and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said the giant, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.
Several people around them snickered. Harry made a point to remember their faces.
They followed the giant's lamp up a steep staircase cut into the rock. It let out into an open air corridor that surrounded a stone courtyard. Behind them, the ground dropped straight down into the lake. The giant led them across the courtyard and up a flight of stone steps. In front of them were two of the largest oak doors Harry had ever seen. They looked ancient, with iron banding and iron faces set into the wood.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" the giant asked. Then he raised a huge fist and rapped on the door three times.
The door swung open. A tall witch with greying black hair wearing emerald green robes stood there. She had a stern face, and Harry made a note that she looked like someone not to be crossed.
"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she said with a Scottish accent. She pulled the door wide.
The Entrance Hall was the largest room Harry had ever seen, so much so that the Dursley's house could have fit between the staircases that rose on around them twice. Flaming torches were dotted all around the walls, lighting the room. Directly across from the doors, set into the wall, was the same crest that had been on his letter.
On either side, the staircases on either side led up to a landing with another set of doors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, up the stairs, and to a small, empty chamber set off to the side. Harry could hear hundreds of voices from beyond the doors. All the first years crowded in.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"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."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on several students, whose robes, Harry noticed, had become somewhat askew.
'I shall return when we are ready for you,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Please wait quietly.'
She left the chamber.
Harry swallowed.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Hermione asked.
"No idea. Gran wouldn't tell me," Neville said.
"Father said it's a right of passage, so they never tell anyone too young for Hogwarts," Daphne explained.
He looked around anxiously, and saw that everyone else looked terrified too. People were panicking, talking about the tests or trials they might have to go through.
The redhead next to Alex was saying something about wrestling trolls, which made Harry snicker.
Their little group quieted down, so did most of the others.
Only Alex, Ernie, and Rom were still talking.
He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back.
Several people behind him screamed. Harry turned, and gasped. "What the —?"
About twenty ghosts had just come through the back wall. They were pearly white and somewhat transparent. They glided across the room, arguing with one another.
What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years.
No one answered.
The whole thing seemed oddly rehearsed, but then, Harry knew nothing about ghosts. Maybe they really didn't bother with keeping track of time or the going ons of the living.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
Harry wondered if ghosts were unusual in the Wizarding World.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Harry trembled in anticipation.