AN: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding World Universe.

Chapter 3

For the first time he could remember, Harry was allowed to eat what he wanted and whenever he wanted to eat. He was also allowed to go upstairs. The guest bedroom that Marge, Vernon's sister, used when she visited now had Dudley's toys in it that he no longer used. Harry got the smallest bedroom beside the bathroom, directly over Vernon and Petunia's bedroom.

When Mr. Flitwick took Harry home by another Knight Bus ride, he didn't know what to expect. However, the tiny man entered the house alone for several minutes before stepping back outside and informing Harry that his new bedroom was upstairs and ready for him to use.

Petunia and Vernon looked like they might have a heart attack as he passed them silently and went up the stairs with his trunk. Mr. Flitwick gave Harry a long list of things to read in a particular order. He cautioned him not to use his wand for any reason until he got to Hogwarts.

"The Hogwarts Express, a train used by all students, will leave King's Cross at exactly eleven o'clock on September first. You will find Platforms nine and ten. The third pillar towards the back of the platform will take you to Platform nine and three-fourths. Walk through the solid brick wall, and you will find the Hogwarts Express. This is important. Do you understand the directions?"

Harry nodded and wrote it all down on a heavy piece of parchment the professor provided, along with a quill and ink bottle. It was strange to write with a quill. His handwriting was barely legible.

"Practice, practice, practice," the professor said with a smile. "Now, I must be off. Mr. Potter, thank you for a wonderful day. I can't wait to see you in two and a half months."

Harry froze when the tiny wizard hugged him around the middle before striding off, his back rigid.

The first week after his introduction to wizards was… strange. It was like he was living in a dream world. Petunia, Vernon, and even Dudley acted like he wasn't there. No snide remarks, no orders to cook, and certainly no one locking him in the boot room. He felt uncomfortable the first night in the new room and slept in the boot room because the bed was too soft. It felt too weird and uncomfortable.

Eventually, he ended up sleeping on the floor of the bedroom. Petunia pursed her lips when she realized this for some reason. He learned that everything in the room itself was somehow created with magic. That had shocked him. The bed, dresser, mirror, nightstand, and even large table he used to read from by the window were all given to him by Mr. Flitwick.

Harry ran his hands over the smooth wooden bed frame and dresser in wonder for over an hour. How someone could make these things by magic was both exciting and frightening. He had no idea if he could ever do something like that.

Harry didn't return to school with Dudley. No one seemed to care. It was both liberating and downright terrifying. He could make his own decisions and expected to get in trouble every hour of the day for a few weeks. However, nothing ever came of it.

Time strangely slipped by as Harry slept, read, ate, and generally lounged around his bedroom. He only came out when he needed to use the bathroom or eat. Vernon grunted when Harry entered the same room but otherwise said nothing. Petunia looked like she bit into a lemon. Dudley seemed to largely ignore Harry except when he threw a temper tantrum about his toys being farther away from his bedroom.

"Dudders, would you like more mash, dear?" he heard from downstairs.

Harry breathed and closed Magical Theory by Adelbert Waffling. It was much more interesting than A Muggle-born's Guide to the Wizarding World, which Mr. Flitwick told him to read first. Harry didn't understand many things about the Muggle-born book, but it did help explain a few things that he didn't want to ask Mr. Flitwick. Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts were like the Muggle pound, shilling, and pence. There was a lot to read.

Harry sat in his room and waited until he thought it was around midnight. He didn't like to think about his birthday. Dudley got loads of presents for his, but Harry never even got a cake. After reading the Muggle-born book and a good part of another boring book called A History of Magic, he understood the significance of turning eleven and seventeen. So, he sat on the floor in front of his bed, the light of the lamp on his desk pointed at him, and waited for when he reached that magical age.

Midnight came and went without anything special happening. A little disappointed, Harry rolled over on his comforter on the floor and quickly dropped off to sleep.

For a few days, it was hard for Harry to get into reading again. He'd built up some hope that, somehow, something would happen to signal his eleventh birthday. That reluctance faded when he started looking at the two books Mr. Flitwick told him to read one chapter of each book before moving on. Basic Magical Latin Understanding for Grades 1 - 3 and the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.

Latin was a confusing language, and the chapters in the Charms book were just as confusing. Learning about magical histories and notable names was interesting, if dull. Still, Harry struggled to understand what the two new books were talking about. He went back to Magical Theory in an attempt to understand more.

Harry hadn't made it through a third of Mr. Flitwick's list by late August and felt terrible. All the magic was exciting, but it didn't make any sense. He knew he shouldn't play with the wand still in his trunk, but when the book talked about swishing, flicking, twirling, and making shapes with his wand's tip, he couldn't see why that would matter. Not to mention that he never saw even a single use of the magic word: Abracadabra. He knew it was the special word for all wizards but couldn't find it anywhere in the books. He even checked the indexes, so he didn't have to skim all the chapters!

Mustering the courage to ask to go to Kings Cross on September first was nerve-wracking. Vernon and Petunia continued to pretend Harry didn't exist while his cousin's temper tantrums reduced in frequency.

When his uncle came home from work, Harry felt his heart hammer in his ears as he went downstairs. "Um… Mr. Vernon… may I go to King's Cross next Sunday?" he asked quietly.

The look of rage that purpled Vernon's face made Harry run for his room and lock the door. He didn't ask again.

As the ever-important day approached, Harry fretted over what he would do. He couldn't walk to London, even if he knew where King's Cross was on a map. His uncle turned red every time Harry was in the room, so he ate late at night or early in the morning while everyone was in bed.

There was only one option for him. He had to get to Hogwarts and away from them for good.

Harry took his trunk out through the garage and to the street at six in the morning on September first. He took a deep breath and held out his wand like he'd seen Mr. Flitwick do. For several long minutes, he stood there, feeling silly. Then, with an almighty crash and a trashcan leaping aside, the triple-decker bus appeared down the street and stopped in front of Harry.

"Where are you headed, young wizard?" the same crazy driver asked with a bright smile.

"King's Cross," he whispered.

"Ah, that time again. No problem. Got a few headed there already. We'll drop you off nearby, but you'll need to walk to the station yourself," the grinning man said.

Harry nodded and pulled out the eleven Sickles Mr. Flitwick said would take him anywhere. The driver grinned and hooked his thumb. A tall, older wizard with a big box on a strap around his neck stepped forward. "Sickles go in the box," he smiled.

Harry did as asked and tried to negotiate his trunk down the narrow pathway through the middle of the bus to the closest open seat.

He waited as the Knight Bus made several other stops, dropping passengers off and letting more come aboard. After what felt like an hour, the Knight Bus stopped, and the tall wizard called out, "King's Cross!"

Harry exited the bus with three older wizards and a witch who might have been nineteen. He followed behind them as quickly as his legs would go. They were taller than Harry and seemed in a hurry. His watch didn't work, so he didn't know the time. The sun looked about right for seven or eight in the morning, but it was hard to tell with all the buildings around him.

Harry memorized the instructions for getting to the Hogwarts Express, but it seemed he wouldn't need it. The four wizarding people looked like they were headed for the strange platform.

King's Cross was much larger than he'd imagined, and he almost lost the group once. His legs burned as he spotted the last wizard, a tall man with flecks of gray at his temples, disappear into a brick wall three pillars up. Harry was glad he'd seen it happen because he wasn't sure he would feel comfortable walking into a brick wall.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gripped his glasses in one hand, just in case he walked into the wall instead of passing through, and made the plunge face-first into the barrier.

The magical platform was both too big to be real and, simultaneously, precisely like the other platforms in King's Cross that he'd seen. A massive red steam engine with seventeen red cars attached to it sat on the tracks. Every surface gleamed in the morning sun. As he looked around, he saw the four from the Knight Bus moving around the station and waving their wands. Sometimes, something would happen, like a newspaper disappearing into the trash can, and sometimes, nothing happened at all.

Harry wasn't sure what to do since he was there so early. One of the wizards, a short man with a handlebar mustache, waved to Harry and pointed at the train as if to say: "well, go ahead, get on."

Standing alone on the platform didn't sound like a good idea, so Harry entered the first car and looked around. Thankfully, he had plenty of room to negotiate his trunk, unlike on the Knight Bus. Several tables and plush seats made up the front part of the compartment. At the back were tables and a bar. He moved through the compartments. Some had regular seating like he'd seen in photos, but most had compartments with a sliding door for privacy. He found a place in the middle of the train that looked interesting because he could see both ends of the platform and put his trunk in the overhead metal rack.

It turned out that was a mistake because he didn't want to sit there for what might be three hours before the train started moving. He took down his trunk and found Magical Drafts and Potions that had somehow slipped between two piles of books. The book was both interesting and confusing. At first, he thought it was a cookbook for making potions. However, as he kept reading, he realized that was not true.

Families started arriving on the platform shortly after he really got into reading about antidotes to common poisons. The book helped hide him from a growing sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched people smile and hug each other. Happy and sad to part. Harry didn't think he was jealous of them; he just wanted to understand. One olive-skinned wizard hugged a tall boy in black robes before stepping back and crossing his arms.

Anger?

That stance and posture would usually mean an adult was aggressive. Harry studied the stranger, who had a firm, clenched jaw. It looked like he was upset with the person he'd just hugged. However, something felt wrong.

Harry looked at another group. The mother kissed both blonde-haired students on the cheek and waved them towards the train. Another father spoke to a boy who might have been Harry's age. He hugged him and helped lift the dark trunk as they headed for the train. Yet another family waved to one another before the adults walked away.

The compartment door opened to reveal a sandy-haired boy with glasses and a frown. He wore black robes and had a large trunk. "Mind if I sit with you?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and pretended to return to reading while studying the other boy. He easily lifted the trunk into the overhead rack and flopped down on the bench. "Name's Oliver Rivers. What's yours?"

Harry nodded to him and went back to pretending to read. The boy's expression darkened. Anger. However, before he could say anything, the door opened again. A blonde girl with nearly white hair stood there looking between them. "Can I join?" she grinned.

Harry again nodded, and Oliver laughed. "He doesn't speak… I guess. I don't mind if you join us. Are you ready for Hogwarts? Dad says I'll be in Ravenclaw for sure."

"Likely the same, but we already knew that," the girl smirked. "I'm just too smart for my tutors… and you."

Harry listened to the two talk about a witch and wizard tutoring school off something called Horizont Alley. He assumed it was in the same area as Diagon Alley. There was a section about the different sections of Diagon Alley in A History of Magic, but he couldn't remember what it was just then. Something about needing more space and taxes.

The next person who opened the door was a dark-haired girl who looked like another new student. "Oh, thank Merlin," the girl laughed. "Can I join you three? You all look like new students, too. Everyone else in this car is older students."

Oliver and the blonde, named Mandy, laughed and agreed. They didn't look at Harry or ask his opinion. Since they'd started talking, they'd ignored his presence entirely to discuss the merits of collecting something called Chocolate Frog Cards. He had no idea what that was.

"Good morning," the new person greeted Harry, who nodded back. He hid behind his book again.

"He doesn't talk. What's your name?" Oliver asked.

It seemed Fay Dunbar was their newest and last companion for the trip. The sound of a loud, long whistle signaled eleven o'clock. Harry felt the thrum of something under him as a huge steam cloud covered part of the platform. A few adults were still standing there, watching the train or otherwise talking with one another.

"So, you two went to Peaks and Peaks? Mum wouldn't let me learn too much before school started. Didn't have the Galleons," Fay admitted to the others.

"My dad had to take out a loan," Oliver said with a grimace. "I mean, it'll keep me ahead of my peers like this dolt," he smirked with a look at Mandy.

"I'll have you know, my marks were in the top five percent of our class," the blonde girl huffed with a sour expression.

"Did you go to a Muggle school?" Fay asked Harry. He nodded but didn't speak. Her bright eyes looked him over. "Muggle-born, then?"

Harry shook his head and then paused. Technically, he was raised by non-magical people. Then he nodded.

"So yes and no? That… well, whatever," Oliver snorted. "Anyway, what do you know about the Standard Book of Spells? Did your mum let you at least practice with fake wands like we did?"

Fay's nose turned up. "Why would you practice with a fake wand?"

Mandy laughed. "Because we didn't have our own wand and couldn't use magic outside Hogwarts. We could have been expelled before we even attended. The Statute is not something you want to take a chance with," she said seriously.

Harry wanted to hit himself with the Potions book. Of course, he could have used a stick to practice with. It made more sense than using his finger to draw the weird wand movements in the air.

"Something we say was funny?"

Harry quickly shook his head. He hadn't realized that he'd made a noise. They all stared at him. He tried to return to reading, even remembering to turn the page.

"Whatever, he certainly isn't Ravenclaw material. Probably a duffer, so Hufflepuff," Oliver snorted. He turned to Fay. "Which house do you want to be in?"

"Gryffindor."

"Really? Why? They aren't all that smart. You seem to be pretty smart," Mandy said.

Harry couldn't see her expression out of the corner of his eye, but he imagined she was smirking or had some other look of amusement. He listened to their conversation more than read about a goat's stomach. When the compartment door slid open, a tall student with a blue crest on his black robes looked around.

"Have any of you seen a toad? Apparently, some firstie lost theirs."

Everyone shook their head, and the door closed.

"Ravenclaw," Oliver smirked. "Probably a Prefect. Dad was a Prefect. Said all the troublemakers were in Gryffindor," he laughed with a pointed look at Fay.

"At least I don't want to be in Slytherin," she smirked. "Mum says nothing good comes from being one of those snakes."

"I don't know. Many of the old pure-blood families with connections are in Slytherin," Mandy said.

"Pure-bloods," Oliver snorted. "Technically, I could be considered a Pure-blood. My family goes back three generations of magical parenting, but that didn't seem to matter to Draco. His father and that Greengrass twit didn't seem to consider me one of them."

"You're just angry because Greengrass got higher marks than you did on the History practice test," Mandy challenged. Harry heard her laugh under her breath and say something he couldn't hear.

"No, I'm not. She just got those extra points for knowing about Centaurs and that stupid war. Who cares what happened when the bloody Romans were in Britain?"

Harry had no idea what the boy was talking about.

Someone screamed outside the compartment, followed by several laughs. Oliver opened the door and peeked out. He quickly closed the door and moved back to his spot. They all looked at him.

"Some bloody older student has a massive spider in a box," he explained with a shiver.

"Well, lock the door!" Mandy shouted as she jumped up. She stopped at the door and stomped her foot. "Why isn't there a lock?" she complained.

The rest of the ride was quiet for the most part. Harry could finally read some, and the others seemed more or less happy to do their own thing. Oliver and Mandy got books out of their trunk, and Fay napped. Harry took note of the books his compartmentmates chose. Oliver had a book Mr. Flitwick said wasn't all that good. He claimed that Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian didn't help someone learn why the spells were necessary, just how to use them. Mandy read Hogwarts: A History, which was one of the books the professor recommended. Harry hadn't gotten to that one yet. He was still in the critical course material and hadn't even started Herbology, Fantastical Beasts, or the Transfiguration coursebooks.

A witch with a trolley full of food stopped by. The others didn't want anything. Harry was hungry but didn't want to ask for anything in front of everyone, so he sat back and waited until they got to Hogwarts.

The door opened some time later. A red-haired wizard with a red and gold crest on his robes and a big silver badge with a P on it looked at them. "You'll want to get into your school robes. We'll be arriving at Hogsmeade in about an hour," he said before closing the door.

"That was the Gryffindor Prefect," Oliver said slowly. He looked at the others. "Witches first, then us?"

"No, boys first," Fay argued. "I don't want either of you peaking while we put on our robes."

"Aren't you just going to put them over what you're wearing?" Mandy asked.

"No, I want to match for the Sorting Ceremony. Mum says everyone will stare at you, and I don't want to look dumb."

This was news to Harry. Mr. Flitwick hadn't told him how they were sorted into the four houses, just that there were four houses and what they stood for.

Harry simply found a lavatory at the end of the carriage and changed there. He didn't want to change in front of anyone if he could help it. The robes felt great and soft against his skin. The vest that went with the semi-formal dress would change to whatever house colors he would be in.

Fay and Mandy eyed him when he returned. "That looks quite good on you, Mr. Mute," Mandy commented with pursed lips. "Not Madam Malkin's work. You can see the fine stitching. Mum was a tailor before she got married."

Harry nodded as he took his seat. He felt like a wizard for the first time since Mr. Flitwick came to get him. Harry even had his wand in his pocket. The handle tingled his fingers in a good way when he took it out of the box. At least it didn't cause a commotion again when he touched it.

"I think we're slowing down," Oliver reported as he peered out the window beside Harry and Fay. "Yeah, I see lights ahead. Probably Hogsmeade."

Harry knew a little about the history of the famous village. There had been several historic duels and even a goblin uprising nearby. That had been over three hundred years ago.

The train came to a stop, and everyone seemed excited to get up and leave. Their enthusiasm stalled when it became clear they weren't the only ones excited to leave the train.

"Leave your luggage, as it will be taken up to the Castle in due time," a ghostly voice said from everywhere and nowhere in the compartment.

Harry blinked and looked around. The others seemed confused as well. He put his book away in the proper stack in his trunk and put it back on the upper rack. After several minutes, it looked like a good time to leave.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" a loud booming voice called over and over.

Harry stepped off the train and saw a giant of a man. He was easily twice the height of three or possibly four of Harry. His face was almost entirely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. He wore a large brown coat and waved his hand over his head, which looked the size of trashcan lids. One of the giant's hands could wrap around Harry without any effort.

Harry made his way over to the back of the milling group of students without a crest on their robes. There were a lot of students. He lost count after thirty-one, and that might have only been half of them milling about.

"Follow me!" the giant ordered, waving toward the platform's edge.

Harry followed the others as still more students came off the train. He wondered just how many students there were at Hogwarts. It didn't look like quite as many as his old school.

"I heard he's the groundskeeper," someone whispered ahead of him.

"Its name is Hagrid, and he was expelled," a nasally voice said and laughed. A few people around the boy laughed as well.

Harry couldn't see who spoke, being near the back of the group. A brown-haired and blonde-haired girl near him snorted and whispered something to each other. He spotted a redhead boy furiously talking to a bushy-haired girl to the group's left.

"We'll be takin' boats up ter the castle. See that pathway? Well, jus' follow along now!"

Harry felt a little uncomfortable as the students entered a forest path. It was wide but cramped because many students huddled together. After several turns in the darkening forest, someone at the front of the group gasped, causing a minor issue when people bumped into them.

"Budge up, now. No more'n four ter a boat!" the giant called.

Harry saw what the first person likely saw. A massive castle, its many windows illuminated with some inner light, dominated the darkening sky. It was almost full dark, and he could see the enormous castle's reflection in the murky, dark water.

He got in a boat without paying attention to who was with him. There were fifteen boats, including the one large boat for the giant. "Right! Forward!" the giant called once everyone was in a boat.

The ride across the lake was something out of a dream. Harry looked around and couldn't see much outside the forest on all sides of the massive castle. Once again, he looked up at the place that would be his home for several months.

The trip to the cove under the castle, with a little dock for all the boats, was incredible, but nearly falling in the water wasn't. The students marched up the stone staircase, illuminated by old-fashioned lanterns and candles. He tried not to stare open-mouthed, but everything was so… magical.

A tight-lipped, dark-haired witch with glasses greeted them at the door with a stern expression. Harry missed her name. "Thank you, Hagrid. First years, please follow me," she ordered and somehow looked all the students in the eye. Harry had met her type of adult before. They were not to be crossed and were angry most of the time.

"…Deputy Headmistress," someone whispered as they were led into a large chamber with many awards behind glass cases and portraits that moved.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the stern witch. "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 significant 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 you 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 honor.

I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

Harry pursed his lips. It was like the demerit system at his old school, except it wasn't only him who could get in trouble. Did all the students in a House have to have detention if one person messed up? He'd had detention twice. Once for somehow turning their teacher's hair purple and the other for ending up on the school roof. The principal claimed he climbed the drain pipe because it was broken in one place.

The stern witch told them to stay put until she got back and then disappeared through the large doors from which they entered. All the students talked excitedly about what the Sorting Ceremony might entail. One boy said he thought his brothers wanted them to wrestle a troll.

A minor scuffle broke out between the redhead and a blonde boy with two large boys beside him. Harry couldn't tell what caused the fight.

"That will do!" the angry witch said as she entered. "If you were in a House already, I would take points from you before the term even began. Get yourselves under control!"

Like the other students, Harry took a big step back from the witch to give her a wide pathway to the four boys.

"Now, we will enter the Great Hall in a single-file line. There are fifty-one of you, so do not dawdle, or you will find yourself back on the Express home. When you are in the Great Hall, stand together near the back, and I will call your name when it is your turn. This is your only warning to behave," she said with a glare between the four boys, and then her gaze swept over the other students.

Harry trudged along with the others. No one spoke.

He got a good look at the big entryway they'd come through this time. There were four massive hourglasses with each of the Hogwarts House Crests near the bottom. Somehow, green emeralds were in the bottom of the left-most hourglass with a green snake. Paintings whose occupants moved and looked down at them all were a little weird. The six suits of armor looked like they were ready to jump off their pedestals and begin marching around the castle.

Judging from the large windows on either side, the massive doors looked like they might lead outside the castle. Opposite the heavy doors was another, smaller but no less grand, set of doors that opened slowly as the stern witch approached. The noise of hundreds of voices felt like a physical blow. Harry winced.

Four long, massive tables dominated the chamber. Harry could easily tell which House each table belonged to by the crest and general color scheme of the cloth covering it. It also helped that each table had a banner or two hovering high overhead, where thousands of lit candles illuminated a strangely beautiful night sky.

It took a minute or so for everyone to get settled before the stern witch marched up to a stool at the front of the Hall. Harry only then realized there was a large table with several adults sitting at it. One old man with a very long, white beard sat in the center with a smile.

The Deputy Headmistress made a stool appear at the foot of the dais where the long table was, directly in the center of the room. She carefully dropped a battered brown wizard's hat. At first, Harry thought it was a joke until halfway up in one of the folds, a mouth appeared with no teeth.

It sang a song that talked about each of the Houses.

"I will call your name. Approach the Sorting Hat, and we will begin," the stern witch instructed in a loud, carrying voice once the Hat stopped singing. She produced a long page and read: "Abbott, Hannah."

Harry watched the blonde witch he'd seen coming off the train shakily walk down the middle of the Hall. Every eye was on her. The Deputy Headmistress picked up the odd Hat and dropped it on Hannah's head. It sunk over her ears. The Hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!" in less than a minute.

The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers, and many other students and teachers clapped.